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THE  SEASONS. 


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POETICAL   WORKS 


TnoySON  AND  GRAY. 


?■    'All 


NEW  YORK: 
L  E  A  V  I  T  T    &    ALLEN, 

379    BROADWAY. 
1856. 


^^ 


When  the  Author  of  the  Seasons  came  to  London  In 
pursuit  of  patronage  and  fame,  his  first  want,  as  hi-  bio- 
grapher informs  us,  was  a  pair  of  shoes.  "  For  the  sup- 
ply of  all  his  necessities,  his  whole  fund  was  his  Winter, 
which  for  a  time  could  find  no  purchaser;  till,  at  last,  Mr. 
Millar,  a  bookseller  in  the  Strand,  was  persuaded  to  buy 
it  at  a  low  price;  and  this  low  price  he  had  for  some  time 
reason  to  regret."  We  are  not  informed  what  estimate 
Thomson  himself  had  formed  of  this  production:  whether 
with  self-supported  confidence  he  anticipated  the  recep- 
tion it  would  eventually  meet  with  from  the  public,  or 
whether  he  was  satisfied  to  di-pose  of  his  unproductive 
treasure  for  a  sum  that  provided  for  the  wants  of  the  mo- 
ment—as he  would  have  disposed  of  a  precious  stone  of 
uncertain  value  to  the  first  lapidary  who  would  set  a  price 
upon  it.  In  his  most  sanguine  and  ambitious  momentg 
he  could  not  have  ventured  to  hope,  that  the  poem  would 
ultimately  not  only  amply  reward  its  purchaser,  but  take 
its  rank  among  productions  winch  are  consideied  as  eras 
in  our  literature,  and  become  identified  with  the  language. 

The  '  Seasons'  is  one  of  those  rare  and  original  pro- 
ductions, in  which,  at  distant  intervals  in  the  progress  of 
literature,  genius  appears  to  hurst  forth  in  distinct  indi- 
viduality of  character,  in  spite,  it  may  be,  of  the  bad  taste 
or  prevailing  mediocrity  of  the  period.  There  is  in  the 
human  frame  a  perfect  but  indefinable  correspondence, 
which  extends  to  every  joint,  to  the  very  hair  of  the  head : 
the  artificial  violation  of  this  harmony  is  immediately 
perceptible.  Something  of  this  kind  exists  with  resjiect 
to  the  productions  of  real  genius.  As  models,  they  will 
be  f  jund  exceedinjl^'  4fifeciiy^^  Xiie^^ould  mislead,  as 


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'§\ 


li  r 


CRITICAL  OBSERVATIONS, 


much  as  they  defy  imitation.  But  there  is  in  them,  as  a 
whole,  a.  certain  horaogeneousness  of  expression,  which 
rescues  even  their  fauUs  from  impropriety.  Tliey  please 
or  atfect  us,  not  so  much  by  particular  qualities  of  excel- 
lence as  by  the  force  of  character  diffused  through  the 
production',  and  by  that  Promethean  power  which  the 
poet  appears  to  possess  of  miking  his  words  glow  and 
breathe  with  instinctive  life.  Milton  and  Thomson,  al- 
though immeasurably  dissimilar,  may  yet  be  adduced  as 
two  remarkable  instances  of  poets  whose  ch.if  works 
have  attained  an  almost  equal  degree  of  popularity,  and 
have  produced  a  powerful  effect  on  our  literature;  and  yet, 
in  point  of  style  and  diction,  they  elude  all  attempts  at 
successful  imitation:  the  one,  by  a  severe  majesty  of  man- 
ner, which  ill  befits  an  inferior  subject  or  the  productions 
of  an  inferior  mind;  the  other,  the  Jolmson  of  poetry,  has 
a  gait  of  natural  pomp,  which  it  is  mimicry  to  adopt;  the 
moment  it  appears  to  be  artificial  it  becomes  ridiculous. 
The  causes  which  have  contributed  to  the  universal 
popularity  of  tliis  original  poe-.".  are,  we  do  not  scruple  to 
say,  not  more  its  merits  than  its  Subject  and  its  Defects. 
How  much  is  due  to  the  Subject  might  be  presumed  from 
the  circumstance,  that  this  aione  of  Thomson's  poems 
has  maintained  itself  in  public  favour,  ahhoush,  in  the 
opinion  of  competent  critics,  it  is  not  liis  best.  Few  titles 
have  been  found  less  atlrafflve  tlian  "The  Poetical 
Works  of  James  Tliomson,"  at  the  very  time  that  his 
Seasons  are  circulating  in  every  form  the  press  can  give 
them.  Dr.  Johnson's  sentencp  upon  Liberty  and  Bri- 
taxnia  has  never  been  reversed  (for  once,  as  a  critic,  he 
was  justv  ande%en  the  castle  of  Indolence  is  more  prais- 
ed than  read.  Thomson's  subject  was  a  happy  one;  but 
what  rendered  it  particularly  so,  was,  tfiat  when  he  wrote, 
it  was  a  subject  altogether  open  to  a  poet  who  wished  to 
eurceed  by  novelty.  Spenser  was  obsolete;  Milton  had 
been  generally  neirlected:  Addison  having  then  only  re- 
cently done  himself  tlie  honour  of  introducinc  the  Para- 
dise i.ost  to  the  notice  of  the  public.  With  these  great 
exceptions,  .there  existed  little  descriptive  poetry  worthy 
of  the  name.  The  principal  use  which  had  been  made  of 
natural  scenery  was.  as  an  eternal  storehouse  of  similes 
for  the  inditers  of  heroics,  or  of  love  elegies  and  madri- 
gals. The  absurdities  of  many  of  our  town-bred  or  scho- 
lastic verse-men,  in  what  tlien  passed  for  descriptive 
poetry,  form  a  standing  subject  of  ridicule.    In  vain  shall 


-^^.'41^ 


4% 


XI 


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rv''-  ^v^ 


CRITICAL  OBSERVATIONS. 


we  look  among  the  works  of  the  best  of  our  poets,  fiora 
the  time  of  Elizabeth  to  this  period,  for  any  traces  of  ac- 
curate observation,  or  genuine  feeling  in  reference  to  tiie 
beauties  of  Nature.  "From  Dryden  to  Thomson,"  a 
ver)'  competent  auihority  has  remarked,  "  tliere  is  scarce- 
ly a  rural  image  drawn  "from  life  to  be  found  in  any  of  the 
English  poets  except  Gay."  Pope,  who  in  his  Wind-or 
Forest  seo'ned  to  have  taken  Denliam  as  his  model,  as  if 
ambitious  of  eAceliing  in  descriptive  poetry,  discovers 
much  of  the  same  French  taste,  the  same  want  of  native 
and  appropriate  feeling,  which  are  chanieable  on  liis  pre- 
decessors. A  poet  then  had  only  to  copy  tJie  every  day 
beauties  of  nature,  in  the  language  of  a  genuine  lover  of 
nature,  to  be  original.  Thomson,  partly  from  early  habits 
partly  perhaps  from  accident,  struck  into  this  path.  In 
his  schoolboy  days,  with  Virgil  in  his  hand,  lie  walked 
abroad,  amid  scenes  sufficient  to  awaken  all  the  enthusi- 
asm he  possessed,  wliich  was  that  of  an  artist.  He  saw, 
as  Johnson  remarks,  eveiy  thing  with  the  eye,  though  he 
does  not  appear  to  have  felt  every  thing  with  the  heart, 
of  a  poet.  His  subject  was  a  fortunate  choice.  It  ad 
mitted  of  being  treated  in  that  desultory  manner  which 
best  suited  the  cliaracter  of  his  mind.  There  was  abun 
dant  scope  for  all  the  diffuseness  of  sentimental  descrip 
tion,  and  for  all  thegorgeousness  of  colouring.  Through 
out  the  Seasons,  it  is  to  the  senses,  however,  rather  than 
to  the  heart,  that  tlie  appeal  is  made.  It  is  as  mucJi  a 
painting  as  a  poem. 

As,  when  Thomson  published  his  Winter,  the  snbjf'ct 
had  the  advantage  of  novelty;  so  the  Seasons  still  pre- 
serves its  rank,  as  the  first  descriptive  poem  in  the  lan- 
guage. It  is  one  among  our  earliest  favourites  which 
eerve  to  awaken  a  sensibility  to  the  beauties  of  e\tprnal 
nature.  VVe  read  it  with  avidity,  and  perhaps  with  en 
thusiasm,  at  the  period  when  our  imagination  fir^t  besins 
to  exercise  itself  on  the  objects  of  poetry;  and  it  retains 
much  of  its  interest  in  after  life,  from  being  associated 
with  the  scenes  of  our  youthful  pleasures. 

Wlien  we  attribute  the  popularity  which  this  poem  has 
obtained,  in  some  degree  to  its  Defects,  we  allude  not 
only  to  the  faults  of  the  style,  but  to  the  very  cast  r-f 
thou2ht,  and  the  intellectual  quality  of  the  sentiments.  b7 
which  tlie  poem  is  characterized.  A  contemporarv  cri'ie 
has  remarked,  that  "  There  are  few  minds  in  which  th< 
ki  ve  of  poetry  does  not  form  a  sort  of  intellectual  instinct 


^ 


fp 


V' 


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If 


CRITICAL  OESERVATIOIVS. 

Ko.  instinct  often  blind  and  indiscriminating,  yet  having 
reference  to  something  nobler  than  the  wants  of  the 
physical  being,  and  valuable  as  connected  with  the  first 
developement  of  the  imagination  and  passions.  The  poetry 
which  aims  at  popularity  must  be  adapted  to  that  nume- 
rous class  of  readers  in  whom  this  instinctive  feeling  exists, 
but  who  have  stopped  short  at  a  Tery  low  degree  of  men- 
tal cultivation,  or  whose  imagination  has  been  neglected 
amid  the  pursuits  of  after  life."  There  is  nothing  m 
Thomson  tliat  requires  any  painful  exercise  to  the  facul- 
ties, that  calls  for  any  of  the  higher  exertions  of  the  ima- 
gination, or  that  soars  beyond  the  exj)erieuce  of  the  hum- 
blest intellect.  His  style  is  indeed  learned  and  ornate. 
But  Burke  has  shown  that  words  may  the  most  power- 
fully affect  the  mind,  when  their  meaning  is  indefinite. 
Where  Thomson's  language  is  the  most  inflated,  his  ex- 
pressions have  generally  a  specious  grandeur  of  meaning 
derived  from  the  felicity  with  which  they  are  selected. 
His  genius  is  in  this  respect  conspicuous  :  like  the  evening 
sun,  which  imparts  pomp  and  brightness  to  the  unsub- 
stantial cloi'ds  with  which  it  is  enveloped,  it  changes  the 
very  character  of  the  faults  which  it  appropriates. 

The  greatest  defect  in  the  Seasons  respects  tlie  cast  of 
its  moral  sentiments;  but  in  this  respect  it  is  not  the  less 
adapted  to  the  more  numerous  class  of  the  readers  of 
poetry.  The  Religion  of  the  Seasons  is  of  that  general 
kind  which  iVature's  self  might  teach  to  those  who  had 
no  knowledge  of  the  God  of  Revelation.  It  is  a  lofty  and 
complacent  sentiment,  which  plays  upon  the  feelings  like 
the  ineffable  power  of  solemn  harmony,  but  has  no  refer- 
ence to  the  quality  of  our  belief,  to  the  dispositions  of  the 
heart,  or  to  the  habitual  tendency  of  the  character  ;  still 
less  does  it  involve  a  devotional  recognition  of  the  re- 
vealed character  of  the  Divine  Being.  But  on  this  very 
account  "  the  Seasons"  was  adapted  to  please  at  the  time 
that  Pope  ruled  the  republic  of  taste,  and  to  the  same 
cause  tlie  poem  is  still  indebted  for  at  least  some  of  itj 
admirers. 

The  love  of  the  Poet  of  the  Seasons  is  the  "  Passion 
of  the  Groves."  The  author,  it  is  said,  was  susceptible 
of  no  higher  sentiment.  There  is  a  prevailing  vulgarity 
of  feeling  on  this  subject,  which  is  only  concealed  by  the 
splendour  of  the  diction.  The  Poet's  ideas  of  love  are 
such  as  a  schoolboy  would  naturally  derive  from  the  pe- 
rusal of  the  Pantheon  and  Ovid's   Metamorphoses.     "VVe 


I  % 


(C^ 


W 

W 


CRITICAL  OBESRVATIONS. 


know  we  shall  offend  common  prejudice,  in  pronouncing 
the  tale  of  Musidora,  which  has  furnished  so  many  art 
ists  with  a  subject,  and  the  publishers  of  so  many  editions 
of  Thomson  with  a  captivating  embellishment,  to  be  aa 
vulgarly  conceived,  and  to  be  as  coarse  in  seminieni, 
though  not  in  expression,  as  a  Dutch  painting.  But  still 
Thomson  is  chastity  and  purity  itself  in  comparison  with 
his  contemporaries.  There  is  always  an  air  of  elegance, 
and  even  of  refinement,  thrown  over  his  warmest  pic- 
tures. The  Seasons,  though  they  may  administer  fuel  to 
an  excited  imagination,  contain  scarcely  an  expression 
that  would  raise  the  blush  of  modesty.  This  decorum  of 
expiession  extends  also  in  general  to  his  ideas;  and  he  is 
not  perhaps  to  be  blamed  if  these  do  not  rise,  in  point  of 
elevation  of  sentiment,  above  the  level  of  his  experience. 

We  are  indebted,  however,  to  Thomson  for  one  pas- 
sage on  donifstic  happiness,  at  the  conclusion  of  his 
"  Spring,"  which  does  high  credit  to  his  feelings  as  a  man 
and  as  a  poet.  Thomson  never  loved;  but  he  was  not  an 
unarniable  character.  He  was  an  affectionate  brothi  r. 
his  benevolence,  though  it  partook  of  the  indolence  of 
his  character,  was  fervid;  and  by  his  friends,  we  are  told, 
he  was  very  tenderly  and  warmly  beloved. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  dwell  on  the  beauties  or  merits  of 
his  great  poem.  Johnson  has  remarked,  tha»  "  his  mode 
of  thinking  and  of  expressing  his  thoughts  is  original." 
This  is  no  small  praise.  His  descriptions,  varying  and 
rising  with  his  subject,  are  at  times  magnificent;  at  other 
times,  they  display  all  the  minute  a(;curacy  only  to  be  ob- 
tained by  familiar  observation.  No  one  but  an  angler 
could  have  described  with  so  felicitous  correctness  the 
f^y-fislier's  sport  in  the  first  Season.  'J'here  breailiea 
throughout  his  poem  the  enthusiasm  of  the  poet  of  na- 
ture: and  if  we  cannot  allow  that  the  reader  of  the  Sea- 
sons "  wonders  that  he  never  saw  before  what  Thomson 
shows  him,"  unless  it  be  a  reader  unaccustomed  to  hold 
converse  with  the  beautiful  in  the  material  world,  yet  he 
di^rives  a  high  and  more  genuine  gratificaiion,  in  finding 
the  scenes  he  loves  described  so  well. 

James  Thomson  was  born  at  Ednam,  in  the  shire  of 
Roxburg,  in  1700.  Winter  was  published  in  172();  Sum- 
mer and  Spring  in  the  following  years;  and  Autumn,  with 
his  collected  works,  in  17.10.  The  incidents  of  his  life 
consisted  of  the  patronage  he  succeeded  in  obtaining,  and 
the  disappointments  he  had  to  encounter.    His  niothe* 


> 


17? 


4'  ^^  ^V^^/ 


1 


m 


CRITICAL  OBSERVATIONS. 

Ined  lo  see  Imr  snn  rising  into  eminence.  Thrc  igh  the 
frit- udsliip  of  Lord  Lyttelion,  he  was  established  in  ease, 
if  not  in  affluence,  when  taltinii  cold  on  tiie  water  beween 
London  and  Ivew,  lie  caught  a  disorder,  which,  with  some 
careless  f'xa^peration,  terminated  fatally,  August  27, 1748. 
K  tablet  has  been  recently  placed  on  the  wall  of  Richmond 
( 'hnrcti,  by  the  exertions  of  Mr.  Park,  in  conjunction  with 
Lord  Burlian,  to  denote  the  place  of  his  interment. 


TO  THE  SHADE  OF  THOMSON 


OS  CROWNING  HIS  BLST  WITH  BAYS. 

While  virgin  Spring,  by  Eden's  flood, 
Unfolds  her  lender  mantle  green. 

Or  pranks  the  sod  in  frolic  mood. 
Or  tunes  Eolian  strains  between ; 

While  Summer  with  a  matron  grace 
Retreats  lo  Dryburgh's  cooling  shade, 

Yet  oft,  delighted,  stops  to  trace 
The  progress  of  the  spiky  blade : 


While  Autumn,  benefactor  kind. 
By  Tweed  erects  his  aged  head, 

An('.  sees,  with  self-approving  mind, 
Eacli  creature  on  his  bounty  fed: 


'0k 


Si 


p 


,'hr  subject  proposed.  Inscribed  to  the  Countess  of  Heil 
ford.  The  Season  is  described  as  It  affects  the  variouu 
parts  of  Nature,  ascending  from  the  lower  to  the  higher ; 
with  digressions  arising  from  the  subject.  Its  influence 
on  inanimate  Matter,  on  Vegetables,  on  brute  Animals, 
ajid  last  on  Man  ;  concluding  with  a  dissuasive  from  the 
wild  and  irregular  passion  :>f  Love,  opposed  to  that  of 

a  pure  and  happy  kind 


SPRING. 


€ 


f 


Come,  geiHle  Sprino,  ethereal  mildness,  come, 
And  from  llie  bosom  of  yon  dropp)ing  cloud. 
While  music  wakes  around,  veil'd  in  a  showor 
Of  shadowing  roses,  on  our  plains  descend, 

O  Hertford,  fitted  or  to  shine  in  courts 
With  unaffected  grace,  or  walk  the  plain 
With  innocence  and  meditatio*ji  join'd 
In  soft  assemblage,  listen  to  my  song. 
Which  thy  own  Season  paints;  when  Nature  all 
Is  blooming  and  benevolent,  like  thee. 

And  see  where  surly  Winter  passes  ofF, 
Far  to  the  north,  and  calls  his  ruffian  blasts : 
His  blasts  obey,  and  quit  the  howling  hill, 
The  shatter'd  forest,  and  the  ravaged  vale; 
While  softer  gales  suceeed,  at  whose  kind  touch, 
Dissolving  snows  in  livid  torrents  lost, 
The  mountains  lift  their  green  heads  to  the  sky 

As  yet  the  trembling  year  is  uriconfirm'd. 
And  Winter  oft  at  eve.  resumes  the  breeze, 
Chills  the  pale  morn,  and  bids  his  driving  sleets 
Deform  the  day  rtelightless :  So  that  scarce 
The  bittern  knows  his  time,  with  bill  ingulPd, 
To  shake  the  sounding  marsh  ;  or  from  the  shore 
The  plovers  when  to  scatter  o'er  the  heath, 
And  sing  their  wild  notes  to  the  listening  waste. 

At  last  from  Aries  rolls  the  bounteous  sun. 
And  the  bright  Bull  receives  him.    Then  no  mote 
Th'  expansive  atmosphere  is  cramp'd  with  cold  ; 
Ir  Hut,  full  of  tile  and  vivifying  soul, 
'\ '   Lifts  the  light  clouds  sublime,  and  spreads  tlieni  tmn. 
'\,  Fleet-.y  and  white,  o'er  all  surrounding  heaven 


ff 

if 


b 


Forth  flv  the  tep^      irs ;  and  "f  «^;<^-;f^J' 

T  ..V  lo.ui  their  shoulder,  ^"^1  begm   he  r  U.1I, 
ChceVd  bv  ihe simple  soi.g  a'.d  soar  ng  larR 
MKiiuvhiie  incumbent  o'er  the  sinning  sliare 
r  hP  m-l^ter  leans,  removes  Ih'  obstructing  clay, 

^\  iUi  measured  step;  and  liberal  throws  the  gram 
I  ntn  the  faithful  bosom  of  the  ground : 
Tie    arrow  follows  harsh,  and  shuts  the  scene. 
^  Be  Sous,  Heaven-,  for  now  'abonous  man^ 
111-  done  his  part.    Ye  foslermg  breezes,  blow  , 
i.  .oSSning  dews,  ye  tender  showers,  descend  ! 
And  temper  all,  tliou  world-reviv-ing  sun, 
Into  the  perfect  year !    Nor  ye  who  live 
In  luxury  and  ease,  in  pomp  anl  pri9^!^„_  .„_. 
Think  these  lost  themes  unworthy  o  ,  our  ear . 
Pnch  themes  as  these  the  rural  Maro  sung 
■  To  wide-imperial  Rome,  m  the  lull  height 
Of  elesance  and  taste,  by  Greece  refined. 
In  ancient  times  the  sacred  plough  emj.  oy  d 
The  kings,  an.l  awful  fathers  of  mankind 
And  =oni.;  with  whom  compared  your  i.isect-tnbes 
ArP  hill  the  beincs  of  a  summer  s  day, 
Save  till  the  scale  of  empire,  ruled  the  storm 
Of  mi<'hty  war  :  then,  with  unwearied  hand, 
Disdainins  little  delicacies,  seized 
The  plough,  and  greatly  independent  lived. 

Ye  crenerous  Britons,  venerate  the  P'ou^h 
And  o'er  vour  hills,  and  long  withdrawmg  vale», 
Let  Autumn  spread  his  treasure?  to  the  sun, 
Lnsuriatu  and  imbounded  ;  as  the  sea. 
Far  ihroush  his  azure  lurj.iilent  dnmam, 
Ynur  empire  owns,  and  n..m  a  thousand  shores 
Wafisall  the  pompof  life  into  your  ports; 
«o  will!  s'lne-ior  boon  may  your  n«h  soil, 
Fxubetai.t;  Nature's  better  bles^•ii;g3  pour 
O'er  ev*rv  laud.  tli<-  na'-.ed  nations  clothe,  _ 
And  be  llie  (xhausil.ss  granary  ot  a  world  . 


CI 


TTfA 


BPRING. 

Nor  only  through  the  lenient  air  this  ch.'.ngc, 
Delicious,  breathes  ;  the  penetrative  sun, 
His  force  deep-dardng  to  the  dark  retreat 
Of  vegetation,  sets  the  steaming  Power 
At  large,  to  wander  o'er  the  verdant  earth, 
In  various  hues ;  but  chiefly  thee,  gay  green  ! 
Thou  smiling  Nature's  universal  robe! 
United  iiglit  and  shade  !  where  the  sight  dwells 
With  growing  strength,  and  ever  new  deliirlit. 

From  the  moist  meadow  to  the  witlier'd  hill, 
Led  by  the  breeze,  the  vivid  verdure  runs, 
And  swells,  and  deepens,  to  the  cherish'd  eye. 
The  hawthorn  whitens;  and  the  juicy  groves 
Put  f(irih  their  buds,  unfolding  by  decrees. 
Till  the  whole  leafy  forest  stands  display'd, 
In  full  luxuriance  to  the  sighing  gales; 
Where  the  deer  rustle  through  the  twining  brake, 
And  the  bird>:  sing  conceal'd.     At  once,  array'd 
In  all  the  colours  of  the  flushing  year. 
By  Nature's  swift  and  secret  working  hand. 
The  garden  glows,  and  fills  the  liberal  air 
With  lavish  fra^ance:  while  the  promised  fruit 
Lies  yet  a  little  embryo,  unperceived. 
Within  its  crimson  folds.     Now  from  the  town 
Buried  in  smoke  and  sleep  and  noisome  damps, 
Oft  let  me  wander  o'er  the  dewy  fields. 
Where  freshness  breathes,  and  dash  the  trembling  drops 
From  the  bent  bush,  as  through  the  verdant  nia/.e 
Of  svveetbrifir  hedges  I  i)ursue  my  walk ; 
Or  taste  the  smell  of  dairy  ,  or  ascend 
Some  eminence,  Augusta,  in  thy  plains, 
And  see  the  country,  far  diffused  around. 
One  boundless  blush,  one  white  empurpled  showei 
Of  mingled  blossoms;  where  the  rajuured  eye 
Hurries  from  joy  to  joy,  and,  hid  beneath 
The  fair  profusion,  yelnw  Autumn  spies 

If,  brush'd  from  Russian  wilds,  a  cutting  gale 
Rise  not,  and  scatter  fmrH  his  humid  wings 
Tie  clammy  mild'^w  ;  or,  dry-blowing,  breathe 
UnMmely  frost ;  be'ore  whose  baleful  blast 
The  fill!  blown  Spring  !hrongh  all  her  foliage  slirinks 
.loyle-s  and  dead,  a  wide  dejected  waste. 
For  cf',  engendered  by  the  liazy  norili, 
Myriads  on  myriads,  i  sect  armies  warp 
Keen  in  the  j^oison'd  breeze;  anl  wasteful  eat, 


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41 


SPRING 

Through  buds  and  bark,  into  the  blacken'd  core, 

'J'lieir  eager  way.     A  feeble  race,  yet  oft 

The  sacred  sons  of  vengeance  ;  on  whose  course 

t"orrn:^ive  Famine  waits,  and  kills  tlie  year. 

To  ciicck  this  plague,  the  skilful  farmer  chaff 

And  li  azing  straw  before  his  orchard  burns  ; 

'J'ill,  all  involved  in  smoke,  the  latent  foe 

From  every  cranny  suffocated  falls: 

Or  scatters  o'er  the  blooms  the  pungent  dust 

of  i>epper,  fatal  to  the  frosty  tribe : 

Or,  when  the  envcnom'd  leaf  begins  to  curl, 

With  sprinkled  water  drowns  them  in  their  nest, 

iVor,  while  they  pick  them  up  witJ!  busy  bill, 

The  little  trooping  birds  imwisely  scares. 

Be  patient,  swains,  these  cruel-seeming  winda 
Blow  not  in  vain.     Far  hence  they  keep  repress'd 
'J'hose  deepening  clouds  on  clouds,  surcharged  with  rain, 
That,  o'er  the  vast  Atlantic  hither  borne 
[n  endless  train,  would  quench  the  summer  blaze, 
And,  cheerless,  drown  the  crude  unripen'd  year. 
The  northeast  spends  his  rase  ;  he  now  shut  up 
Within  liis  iron  cave,  th'  effusive  south 
Warms  the  wide  air,  and  o'er  the  void  of  heaven 
Breathes  the  big  clouds  with  vernal  showers  disteiit 
At  tir.-t  a  dusky  wreath  they  seem  to  rise, 
Scarce  staining  ether;  but  by  swift  degrees, 
In  heaps  on  heaps,  the  doubling  vapour  sails 
Along  the  loaded  sky,  and  mingling  deep 
Sits  on  the  horizon  round  a  settled  gloom  : 
^>ot  such  as  wintry  storms  on  mortals  shed, 
Oppressing  life;  but  lovely,  gentle,  kind. 
And  full  of  every  hope  and  every  joy, 
"'he  wi>h  of  Xatnre.     Gradual  sinks  the  breeze 
In  o  a  perfect  calm;  that  not  a  breath 
Is  heard  to  quiver  through  the  closing  woods, 
Or  rustling  turn  themany-twinklinaleav 
Of  a>piM  tall.     Th'  uncurling  floods,  diffused 
In  ;:lassy  breadth,  seem  throuirh  delusive  lapse 
Foigetfu!  of  their  course.     'Tis  silence  all. 
And  pleasing  expectation.     Herds  and  flocks 
Drop  the  dry  sprig,  and  nmte-imploiingeye 
The  failing  verdure.     Hush'd  in  short  suspense. 
The  plumy  people  streak  their  wings  with  oil. 
To  throw  the  lucid  moisture  Iricklins  off. 
And  wail  th'  approaching  sign  to  strike,  at  once, 


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Into  the  general  choir.    E'en  mountains,  vales, 

And  forests  seem,  impatient,  to  demand 

The  promised  sweetness.    Man  superior  walks 

Amid  the  glad  creation,  musing  praise. 

And  lookinii  lively  gratitude.     At  last, 

The  clouds  consign  tljeir  treasures  to  the  fields  ; 

And,  softly  shaking  on  the  dimpled  pool 

Prelusive  drops,  let  all  their  moisture  flow, 

In  large  effusion,  o'er  the  freshen'd  world. 

The  stealing  shower  is  scarce  to  patter  heard. 

By  such  as  wander  through  the  forest  walks. 

Beneath  ih'  umbrageous  multitude  of  leaves. 

But  who  can  hold  the  shade  while  Heaven  descends 

In  universal  bounty  shedding  herbs. 

And  fruits,  and  flowers  on  Nature's  ample  lap? 

Swift  Fancy  fired  anticipates  their  growth  ; 

And,  while  the  milky  nutriment  distils, 

Beholds  the  kindling  country  colour  round. 

Thus  all  day  long  the  full  distended  clouds 
Indulge  their  genial  stores,  and  well  shower'd  eartii 
Is  deep  enrich'd  with  vegetable  life ; 
Till,  in  the  western  sky,  the  downward  sun 
Looks  out,  effulgent,  from  amid  the  flush 
Of  broken  clouds,  gay-shifting  to  liis  beam. 
The  rapid  radiance  instantaneous  strikes 
Th'  illumined  mountain,  through  the  forest  streams, 
Shakes  on  the  floods,  and  in  a  yellow  mist, 
Far  smoking  o'er  th'  interminable  plain. 
In  twinkling  myriads  lights  the  dewy  gems. 
Moist,  briglit,  and  green,  the  landscape  laughs  ai  'ind 
Full  swell  the  woods;  their  very  mu!-ic  wakes, 
Mix'd  in  wild  concert  with  the  warbling  brooks 
Increased,  the  distant  bleatings  of  the  hills. 
And  hollow  lows  responsive  from  the  vaies, 
Whence  blending  all  the  sweeten'd  zephyr  spriii^'s 
Meantime,  refracted  from  yon  eastern  cloud, 
Bestriding  earth,  the  grand  ethereal  bow 
Shoots  up  immense;  and  every  hue  unlbids, 
In  fair  proportion  running  from  the  rtd. 
To  whwe  the  violet  fades  into  the  sky. 
Here,  awfal  Newton,  the  dissolving  clouds 
Form,  fronting  on  the  sun,  thy  sliowery  piisni ; 
And  to  the  sage-instructed  eye  unfold 
The  varioi's  twine  of  light,  by  thee  dhclosed, 
From  the  white  mingling  uia-Aa     Ao-  &q  the  boy  I 


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SPRING, 


He  wonderii:^  views  the  briglit  eiichantmont  bend, 
Delightful,  o'er  the  radiant  fields,  and  runs 
To  catch  the  I'allin','  glory,  but  amazed 
Beholds  th'  amusive  arch  before  him  fly, 
Then  vanish  quite  away.     Still  night  succeeds, 
A  soften'd  shade,  and  saturated  earth 
Awaits  the  morning  beam,  to  give  to  light, 
Raised  through  thousand  different  plastic  tubes, 
The  balniv  tieasures  of  the  former  day. 

TliLMi  sprina  the  living  herbs,  profusely  wild, 
O'er  all  the  deep  green  earth,  beyond  tlie  power 
Of  botanists  to  number  up  their  tribes  : 
Whether  he  s:eals  along  tlte  lonely  dale, 
in  silent  search  ;  or  through  the  forest,  rank 
With  what  the  dull  incurious  weeds  account, 
Hursts  his  blind  way  ;  or  climbs  the  mountain  rock, 
Fired  by  the  nodding  verdure  of  its  brow 
With  such  a  liberal  hand  has  Nature  flung 
Their  seeds  abroad,  blown  them  about  in  winds, 
Innu-neroiis  mix'd  them  with  the  nursing  mould, 
The  moistening  current,  and  prolific  rain. 

Hni  who  their  virtues  can  declare"?  who  pierce, 
With  vision  pure,  into  these  secret  stores 
Of  health,  and  life,  and  joy?  llie  food  of  Man, 
Wtiile  yet  he  lived  in  innocence,  and  told 
A  length  of  golden  years;  unflesh'd  in  blocni, 
A  stranger  to  the  savage  arts  of  life, 
D.-a.h,  rapine,  carnage,  surfeit,  and  disease  ; 
i'he  rrd,  a:id  not  the'  tyrant,  of  the  world. 

T    V  rtrsi  fresh  dawnthen  waked  the  gladden'd  retC 
O'     nrorrup'ed  Man,  nor  blush'd  to  see 
T.i-:'  sluggard  sleep  beneath  its  sacred  beam  ; 
For  Iheir  light  sluuiwjrs  gently  fumed  away; 
And  up  they  rose  as  vigorous  as  the  sun. 
Or  to  the  culture  of  the  willing  glebe. 
Or  to  liie  cheerful  tendance  of  the  flock 
Meantime  the  suiic  went  round  :  and  dance  a\id  sport, 
Wisd)m  and  friendly  lalk,  successive,  stole 
Thtir  ho'.irs  away;  while  in  the  rosy  vale 
t,i)v(>  breathed  his  infant  sighs,  from  anguish  free, 
.And  full  replete  with  bliss;  save  the  sweet  pain, 
'!'h;it  inly  thrilhn?,  but  exalts  it  more. 
\ot  yet  injurious  act,  nor  surly  deed, 
Was  known  among  those  happy  sons  of  iieaven 
For  reason  and  benevolenct  were  law 


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Harmonious  nature  too  looked  smiling  ci. 
Clear  shone  the  skies,  cool'd  wirh  etern  tl  gales, 
And  balmy  spirit  all.    TJie  youthful  sun 
Shoe  his  best  rays,  and  still  the  gracious  clouds 
Dropp'd  fatness  down  ;  as  o'er  the  swelling  mead, 
The  herds  and  flocks,  commixing,  play'd  secure 
This  when,  emergent  f'om  the  gloomy  wood, 
The  glaring  lion  saw,  his  horrid  heart 
Was  meeken'd,  and  he  joiu'd  his  sullen  joy. 
For  nuisic  held  the  whole  in  perfect  peace  ; 
Soft  agli'd  the  flute  ;  the  lender  voice  was  heard, 
Warblitig  tlie  varied  lieart;  the  woodhirds  round 
Applied  Their  quire  ;  and  winds  and  waters  flow'd 
In  consonance.     Such  were  those  prime  of  daj-s. 

But  now  those  white  unl)lemish'd  manners,  whence 
The  fabling  poets  took  their  golden  age, 
Are  found  no  more  amid  these  iron  tines. 
The^e  dreu's  of  life  !  now  the  distemper'it  rnind 
rias  lost  that  concord  of  harmonious  powers, 
Which  forms  the  sonl  of  happiness  ;  and  all 
[s  off  the  poise  within  ;  the  passions  all 
Flave  burst  their  bounds;  and  reason,  half  extinct 
Or  impotent,  or  else  a[)proving,  sees 
The  foul  disorder.    Senseless  and  deform'd, 
(Convulsive  anger  storms  at  large  ;  or  pale 
And  silent,  settles  into  fell  revence. 
Base  envy  withers  at  another's  joy, 
And  hates  that  excellence  it  cannot  reach. 
ne?ponding  fear,  of  feeble  fancies  full. 
Weak  and  unnjanly,  loosens  every  power. 
E'en  love  itself  is  bitterness  of  soul, 
A  pens-ive  anguish  pining  at  the  heart; 
Or,  sunk  to  sordid  interest,  feels  no  more 
That  noble  wish,  that  never  cloy'd  desire. 
Which,  selfish  joy  disdjiining,  seeks  alone 
To  bless  the  dearer  object  of  its  fl;ime. 
Hope  sickens  with  extravagance  ;  and  grief. 
Of  life  impatient,  into  madness  swells ; 
Or  in  dead  ,-ilence  wastes  the  weeping  hours. 
These,  and  a  thousand  mix'd  emot  ons  more, 
From  evir  changing  views  of  good  and  ill, 
Fonn'd  infinitely  various,  vex  iJie  mind 
With  endless  storm  :  \\hiiice,  dee()ly  rankling,  grows 
The  partial  thciiirht,  a  li^tle^s  unconcern, 
Coll,  and  averting  from  our  neiflibour's  good- 


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SPRING, 

Then  dark  disgust,  and  hatred,  win«fing  wiles, 

Coward  deceit  and  ruffian  violence : 

At  last,  extinci  each  social  feeling,  fell 

And  joyless  inhumanity  per\'ades 

And  petrifies  the  heart.    Nature  disturb'd 

Is  deem'd  vindictive,  to  have  changed  her  course 

Hence,  in  old  dusky  time,  a  deluge  came: 
VVIien  the  deep-cleft  disparting  orb,  that  arch'd 
The  central  waters  round,  impetuous  rush'd, 
With  universal  burst,  into  the  gulf, 
And  o'er  the  high-piled  hills  of  fractured  earth 
Wide  da?h'd  tlie  waves,  in  undulation  vast ; 
Till,  from  the  centre  to  the  streaming  clouds, 
A  shoreless  ocean  tumbled  round  the  globe. 

The  Seasons  since  have,  with  severer  swaj', 
Opprrss!d  a  broken  world  :  the  Winter  keen 
Shof)k  forth  his  waste  of  snows ;  and  Summer  shot 
His  pestilential  heats.    Great  Spring,  before, 
Green'd  all  the  year;  and  fruits  and  blossoms  blush'd 
In  social  sweetness,  on  the  selfsame  bouah. 
Pure  was  the  temperate  air;  an  even  calm 
?erp'>tual  reign'd.  save  what  the  zephyrs  bland 
Breathed  o'er  the  blue  expanse  :  for  then  nor  storms 
Were  taught  to  blow,  nor  hurricanes  to  rage ; 
.^onnd  sli'pt  the  waters  ;  no  sulphureous  glooms 
PwelI'd  in  the  sky,  and  sent  the  lightning  forth; 
While  sickly  danips  and  cold  autumnal  fogs 
Hung  not,  relaxing,  on  the  springs  of  life. 
Rut  now,  of  turbid  elements  the  sport. 
From  clear  to  cloudy  loss'd,  from  hot  to  cold, 
And  dry  to  moist,  with  inward-eating  change, 
O'lr  drooping  days  are  dwindled  down  to  naught, 
Their  period  fiiiish'd  ere  'tis  well  heuun. 

And  yet  the  wholesome  herb  neglected  dies  ; 
Though  with  the  pure  exiiilarating  soul 
Of  nutriment  and  health  and  vital  powers, 
Hoyond  the  search  of  art,  'tis  copious  hless'd. 
To(,  with  hot  ra\  ine  fired,  ensanguined  Man 
Is  now  become  the  lion  of  the  plain, 
And  worse.     The  wolf,  who  from  the  nightly  fold 
Fif'rce  drags  the  bleating  ptey,  ne'er  drunk  her  milk 
N(.r  wore  her  warininc  fleece  :  nor  has  the  steer, 
At  whose  strong  chest  the  deadly  tiL'er  hangs, 
F'l^r  plough'd  for  him.     They  too  are  temperd  1  Igh 
•V  th  hunger  stung,  and  ^vild  necessity  ^^ 


^ 


PRING. 


Mor  lodges  pity  in  their  sliaggy  breast. 

But  Man,  whom  Nature  forai'd  of  milder  clay, 

With  every  kind  emotion  in  his  heart, 

And  taught  alone  to  weep  ;  while  from  her  lap 

She  pours  ten  thousand  delicacies,  herbs 

And  fruits,  as  numerous  as  the  drops  of  rain 

Or  beams  that  gave  them  birth :  shall  he,  fair  form 

Who  wears  sweet  smiles,  and  looks  erect  on  heave 

E'er  stoop  to  mingle  with  the  prowling  herd, 

And  dip  his  tongue  in  gore  ?    the  beast  of  prey, 

Blood-stain'd,  deserves  to  bleed  :  but  you,  ye  flocks 

What  have  you  done  ;  ye  peaceful  people,  what. 

To  merit  death  1    you.  who  have  given  us  milk 

l(n  luscious  streams,  arid  lent  us  your  own  coat 

Against  the  Winter's  cold  7    and  the  plain  ox, 

That  harmless,  honest,  guileless  animal, 

In  what  has  he  offended?  he,  whose  toil, 

Patient  and  ever  ready,  clothes  the  land 

With  all  the  pomp  of  harvest ;  shall  he  bleed, 

And  struggling  groan  beneath  the  cruel  hands 

E'en  of  tiie  clown  he  feeds  1  and  that,  perhaps. 

To  swell  the  riot  of  th'  autumnal  feast. 

Won  by  his  labour  1    thus  the  feeling  heart 

Would  tenderly  suggest :  but  'tis  enough. 

In  this  late  age,  adventurous,  to  have  touch'd 

Lisht  on  the  numbers  of  the  Samian  sage. 

Hisli  [leaven  forbids  the  bold  presumptuous  strain, 

Wliost;  wisest  will  has  tix'd  us  in  a  state 

That  must  not  yet  to  pure  perfection  rise. 

Now  when  tiie  first  foul  torrent  of  the  brooks, 
Swell'd  with  the  vernal  rains,  is  ebb'd  away, 
And,  whitening,  down  their  mossy  tinctured  stream 
Descends  the  billowy  foam:  now  is  the  time, 
While  yet  the  dark  brown  water  aids  the  guile. 
To  tempt  the  trout.     The  well  dissembled  fly. 
The  rod  tine  tapering  with  elastic  spring, 
Snatch'd  from  the  hoary  steed  the  floating  line. 
And  all  thy  slender  watery  stores  prepare. 
But  let  not  on  thy  hook  the  tortured  worm. 
Convulsive,  twist  in  agonizing  (bids  ; 
Which,  by  rapacious  hunger  swallow'd  deep, 
(iives,  as  you  tear  it  from  the  bleeding  breast 
Of  the  weak  helpless  uncomplaining  wretch, 
Uarsh  pain  and  horror  to  the  tender  hand. 

V  ben  with  his  lively  ray  the  potent  siia 


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SPRING. 

Has  pierced  the  streams,  and  roused  Ue  fi'iny  race, 

Then,  issuing  clieerful,  to  thy  sport  repair  : 

Cliief  should  the  western  breezes  curhng  play, 

And  light  o'er  ether  bear  the  shadowy  clouds. 

High  to  tlieir  fount,  this  day,  amid  the  hills, 

And  woodlands  warbling  round,  trace  up  the  bracts; 

The  next,  pursue  their  rocky-channerd  maze, 

Down  to  the  river,  in  whose  ample  wave 

Their  little  naiads  love  to  sport  at  large. 

Just  in  the  dubious  point,  where  with  the  pool 

Is  mix'd  the  trembling  stream,  or  where  it  boiJs 

Around  the  stone,  or  from  the  hallow'd  bank 

Reverted  plays  in  undulating  flow. 

There  throw,  nice-judging,  the  delusive  fly  ; 

And  as  you  lead  it  round  in  artful  curve, 

With  eye  attentive  mark  the  springing  g; 

Straight  as  above  the  surface  of  the  flood 

They  wanton  rise,  or  ursed  by  hunger  leap, 

Then  fix,  with  gentle  twitch,  the  barbed  hook  : 

Some  lightly  tossing  to  the  grassy  bank, 

And  to  the  shelving  shore  slow  dragging  some, 

With  various  hand  proportion'd  to  their  force 

If  yet  too  young,  and  easily  deceived, 

A  wortliless  prey  scarce  bends  your  pliant  rod, 

Him,  piteous  of  his  youth  and  the  short  space 

He  has  enjoy'd  the  vital  liuht  of  heaven, 

S'lfl  disenuase,  and  back  into  the  stream 

Tlie  speckled  ca|)tive  throw.     But :  hould  you  lure 

From  his  dark  haunt,  beneath  the  tangled  roots 

Of  pendent  trees,  the  monarch  of  the  brook, 

Behoves  you  then  I  )  ply  your  finest  art. 

Long  time  he,  following  cautious,  scans  the  fly  ; 

And  oft  attempts  to  seize  it,  but  as  oft 

Tlie  dimpled  water  speaks  his  jealous  fear. 

At  last,  while  hap'y  o'er  the  shaded  sun 

Parses  a  cloud,  he.desperate  takes  the  death, 

With  sullen  pluns'^.     At  once  he  darts  aloni. 

Ofcp  struck,  and  runs  out  all  the  lensthen'd  line; 

rheii  scexs  rli"  furih.-<t  ooze,  the  sheltering  woeo. 

rUf  c;ivern'd  bank,  his  old  secure  abode  ; 

And  tlirs  aluf ,  and  flounces  round  the  pool, 

Fudignatilof  the  guile.    With  yielding  hand, 

That  f.-eis  Inm  still,  yet  to  his  furious  course 

C.]ve~  way.  y  "u.  now  retiiins,  following  now 

Across  the  strt^am,  exhaust  his  idle  rage . 


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I'ill  fioatmg  broad  upon  his  breathless  side 
Aji(1  to  hi-  fate  abandon 'd,  to  the  short 
You  gaily  drag  your  unresisting  prize. 

Thus  pass  the  temperate  hours  ;  but  when  the  sun 
Shakes  from  liis  noonday  throne  the  scattering  clouds 
E'en  shooting  listless  languor  through  the  deeps  ; 
Then  seek  the  bank  where  floweriiig  alders  crowd, 
Where  seatter'd  wild  the  lily  of  the  vale 
I's  balm}  essence  breathes,  where  cowslips  hang 
The  dewy  head,  wnere  purple  violets  lurk, 
With  all  tlie  lowly  children  of  the  shade  : 
Or  lie  reclined  beneath  yon  spreading  ash, 
I-iung  o'er  the  steep  ;  whence,  borne  on  liquid  wing, 
The  sounding  culver  shoots  ;  or  where  the  hawk, 
Kigh.  in  the  beetling  cliff,  his  eyry  builds. 
Tliere  let  the  classic  page  thy  fancy  lead 
Through  rural  scenes;  such  as  the  Mantuan  swaia 
Paints  \n  the  matchless  harmony  of  song. 
C>r  catch  thyself  the  landscape,  gliding  swift 
Athwart  imagination's  vivid  eye: 
Or  by  the  vocal  woods  and  waters  lull'd, 
And  lost  in  lonely  musing,  in  the  dream, 
Confused,  of  careless  solitude,  where  mix 
Ten  thousand  wandering  images  of  things, 
Soothe  every  gust  of  pasrion  into  peace; 
All  but  the  swellings  of  ti.e  soften'd  heart, 
That  waken,  not  disturb,  the  tranquil  mind. 

Behold  you  breathing  prospect  bids  the  Muse 
Throw  all  her  beauty  forth.     But  who  can  prant 
Like  IVature.''     Can  imagination  boast. 
Amid  its  gay  creation,  hues  like  hers.' 
Or  can  it  mix  them  with  that  matchless  skill, 
Jjid  I'ise  them  in  each  other,  as  appears 
I;i  every  bud  that  blows.'     if  fancy  then 
Unequal  fails  beneath  the  pleasing  task, 
Ah.  what  shall  language  do.'    Ah,  where  find  word* 
Tinged  with  so  many  colours;  and  whose  power 
To  life  approaching,  may  perfume  my  lays 
With  that  fine  oil,  those  aromatic  gales, 
That  iueshaustiye  flow  continual  round.' 

Yet,  tjiough  successless,  will  the  toil  delight. 
Come  theii,  ye  virgins  and  ye  youths,  whose  hewu 
Have  felt  the  raptures  of  refining  love  ; 
And  thou,  Amanda,  come,  pride  of  my  song! 
Form'd  bi  the  Graces,  loveliness  itself  J 


SPRING. 

Cnme  with  those  downcast  eyes,  sedate  and  sweet, 
Those  looks  demure,  that  deeply  pierce  the  soul, 
Where,  with  tiie  Ijirht  of  thoughtful  reason  inlx'd, 
ShiriPs  lively  fancy  and  the  feeling  heart : 
Oh  come!  ai-.d  while  the  rosy- footed  May 
Steals  blushing  on,  together  let  us  tread 
The  morniiiL'  dews,  and  gather  in  their  prime 
Frer^h  blooming  flowers,  to  grace  thy  braided  hair. 
And  tliy  loved  bosom  that  improves  their  sweets. 

See,  where  the  winding  vale  its  lavish  stores, 
rriiruous,  spreads.    See,  how  the  lily  drinks 
The  latent  rill,  scarce  oozing  through  the  grass, 
OfcroAvth  luxuriant;  or  the  humid  bank. 
In  fair  profusion  decks.     Long  let  us  walk, 
Where  the  breeze  blows  from  yon  extended  field 
Of  blossom'd  beans.     Arabia  cannot  boast 
A  fuller  gale  of  joy  than,  liberal,  thence 
Breathes  through  the  sense,  and  takes  the  ravish'd  sc 
Nor  is  the  mead  unworthy  of  thy  foot. 
Full  of  fresh  verdure,  and  uniuunber'd  flowers, 
The  negligence  of  Nature,  wide  and  wild  ; 
Where,  undisguised  by  mimic  Art,  she  spreads 
T'nbouiided  beauty  to  the  roving  eye. 
Here  their  delicious  task  the  fervent  bees. 
In  swarming  millions,  tend :  around,  athwart. 
Through  the  soft  air,  the  busy  nations  fly, 
Clins  to  the  bud,  and,  with  inserted  tube. 
Suck  its  pure  essence,  its  ethereal  soul ; 
And  oft,  with  bolder  wing,  tliey  soaring  dare 
The  purple  heath,  or  where  the  wild  thyme  grows, 
And  yellow  load  thani  with  the  luscious  spoil. 

At  length  the  finisli'd  garden  to  the  view 
Its  vistas  opens,  and  its  valleys  green. 
Snatch'd  ttiroush  the  verdant  maze,  the  hurried  eye 
Distracted  wanders  ;  now  the  bowery  walk 
Of  covert  close,  where  scarce  a  speck  of  day 
Falls  on  the  lenclhfn'd  aloom,  protracted  sweeps; 
Now  meets  the  bending  sky  ;  the  river  now 
Dimpling  along,  the  breezy  rntHed  lake. 
The  forest  darkening  round,  the  glittering  spire, 
Th'  ethereal  mountain,  and  the  distant  main. 
But  why  so  far  excursive?  when  at  hand. 
Along  these  blu'^hing  borders,  bright  with  dew, 
And  in  yon  mingled  wilderness  of  flowers, 
Fail  handed  Sprinu  unbosoms  every  grace; 


^ 


i 

w 


m 


Throws  out  the  suowdrop  and  the  crocus  first; 

The  daisy,  primrose,  violet  darkly  blue, 

And  polyanthus  of  unnumber'd  dyes; 

The  yellow  wall-flower,  stain'd  with  iron  brown, 

And  lavish  stock  that  scents  t!ie  garden  round : 

From  the  soft  wing  of  vernal  breezes  shed, 

Anemones  ;  auriculas,  enricli'd 

With  shining  fneal  o'er  all  their  velvet  leaves  * 

And  full  rauunculas,  of  glowing  red. 

Then  comes  the  tulip-race,  where  Beauty  plays 

Her  idle  freaks  :  from  family  diffused 

To  family,  as  flies  the  father-dust. 

The  varied  colours  run  ;  and,  while  they  break 

On  the  charm'd  eye,  th'  exulting  florist  marks. 

With  secret  pride,  the  wonders  of  his  hand. 

No  gradual  bloom  is  wanting;  from  the  bud. 

First-born  of  Spring,  to  Summer's  musky  tribes  : 

IVor  hyacinths,  of  purest  virgin  white. 

Low  bent,  and  blushing  inward  :  nor  jonquils 

Of  potent  fragrance  :  nornarcissus  fair, 

As  o'er  the  fabled  fountain  hanging  still ; 

Nor  broad  carnations,  nor  gay  spotted  pinks  ; 

Nor,  shower'd  from  every  bush,  the  damask  ro9«, 

Infinite  numbers,  delicacies,  smells. 

With  hues  on  hues  expression  cannot  paint. 

The  breath  of  Nature,  and  her  endless  bloom. 

Hail,  Source  of  Being!  Universal  Soul 
Of  heaven  and  earth  I  Essential  Presence,  hail ! 
To  Thee  I  bend  the  knee ;  to  Thee  my  thoughts 
Continual  climb  ;  who,  with  a  master  hand. 
Hast  the  great  whole  into  perfection  touch'd. 
By  Thee  the  various  vegetative  tribes, 
Wrapp'd  in  a  filmy  net,  and  clad  with  leaves, 
Draw  the  live  ether,  and  imbibe  the  dew : 
By  Thee  disposed  into  congenial  soils. 
Stands  each  attractive  plant,  and  sucks  and  swells 
The  juicy  tide  ;  a  twining  mass  of  tubes. 
At  thy  command  the  vernal  sun  awakes 
The  torpid  sap,  detruded  to  the  root 
By  wintry  winds  ;  that  now  in  fluent  dance, 
And  lively  fermentation,  mounting,  spreads 
All  this  innumerous-colour'd  scene  of  things. 

As  rising  from  the  vegetable  world 
My  theme  ascends,  with  equal  wing  ascend. 
My  painting  Muse  ;  and  hark,  how  loud  the  woodt 


i^ 


Tfi 


1 


L1| 


Invite  you  forth  in  all  your  gayest  trim. 
J.e:id  me  your  song,  ye  nightingales  !  oh,  pour 
The  mazy-running  soul  of  melody 
Into  my  varied  verse!  while  I  deduce. 
From  the  first  note  the  hollow  cuckoo  sings, 
The  symphony  of  Spring,  and  touch  a  theme 
Unknown  to  fame,— the  Passion  of  the  Groves. 

When  first  the  soul  of  love  is  sent  abroad, 
VVarm  througli  the  vital  air,  and  on  the  heart 
Harmonious  seizes,  the  gay  troops  beuin. 
In  gallant  thought,  to  plume  the  painted  wing 
And  try  asain  the  long  fort'otten  strain. 
At  first  faint  warbled.     But  no  sooner  grows 
The  sott  infusion  prevalent  and  wide, 
Tiian,  all  alive,  at  once  their  joy  o'ertlows 
In  mii~ic  unconfined      Up  springs  the  lark, 
Shrill  voiced  and  loud,  the  messenger  of  morn 
Ere  yt't  the  shadows  fly,  he  mounted  sings 
Amid  ihe  dawning  clouds,  and  from  their  haunts 
Calls  up  the  tuneful  nations.     Every  copse 
Peep  tanL'lcd,  tree  irregular,  and  bush 
Bendinc  with  dewy  moisture,  o'er  the  heads 
Of  tlie  coy  quiristers  that  lodge  within, 
Arp  prodical  of  harmony.     The  thrush 
And  woodla'k,  o'er  the  kind  contending  throng 
Superior  heard,  run  through  the  sweetest  length 
Of  notes  ;  when  listening  Philomela  deigns 
To  let  I  hem  joy,  and  purposes,  in  thought 
Elate,  to  make  her  nisht  excel  their  day. 
The  biackhird  whistles  from  the  thorny  brake. 
The  me'low  bullfitich  answers  from  the  grove: 
Nor  are  the  linnets,  o'er  tlie  flowering  furze 
Pour'd  out  profusely,  silent.    Join'd  to  these 
Innumeroussongsiers,  in  the  fre-hening  shade 
Of  new  sprung  leaves,  their  modulations  mix 
Mellifluous.     The  jay,  the  rook,  the  daw, 
And  each  harsh  pipe,  discordant  heard  alon'^. 
Aid  the  full  concert:  while  the  stockdove  breathes 
A  melancholy  nuirnuir  through  the  whole. 

'Tis  love  creates  their  melody,  and  all 
Thi.-!  waste  of  music  is  the  voice  of  love; 
That  e'en  to  birds  and  beasts  ihe  tender  art- 
Of  pleasing  teaciies.  Hence  the  glossy  kind 
Try  every  winning  way  inventive  love 
Can  dictate,  and  in  courtship  to  their  mates 


■:J 


V 


rr: 


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k4 


1^ 


C*' 


SPRING. 

Pour  forth  their  little  souls.    First,  wide  around, 
With  distant  awe,  in  airy  rings  they  rove, 
Endeavouring  by  a  tlwusand  tricks  to  ratch 
1  he  cunning,  conscious,  half  averted  glance 
Of  the  regardless  charmer.    Should  she  seem 
SDftening  the  least  approvance  to  bestow, 
J  heir  colours  burnisli,  and,  by  hope  inspired, 
1  hey  brisk  advance  ;  then,  on  a  sudden  struck, 
fleiire  disorder'd  ;  then  again  approach  ; 
III  fond  rotation  spread  the  spotted  wing, 
A  nd  sJiiver  every  feather  with  desire. 

Connubial  leagues  agreed,  to  the  deep  woods 
/'hey  haste  away,  all  as  their  fancy  leads, 
I'leasure,  or  food,  or  secret  safety  prompts ; 
That  Nature's  greaficommand  may  be  ohey'd  : 
Nor  all  the  sweet  sensations  tliey  perceive 
Indulged  in  vain,     .'^nme  to  the  holly  hedge 
Ne.stling  repair,  and  to  the  tliicket  some  ; 
Some  to  the  rude  protection  of  the  thorn 
Commit  their  feeble  offspring.    The  cleft  tree 
Otiers  its  kind  concealment  to  a  few. 
Their  food  its  insects,  and  iis  moss  tlieir  nee:ts. 
Others  apart  far  in  the  grassy  dale. 
Or  roughening  waste  their  humble  texture  weave 
But  most  in  woodland  solitudes  delight, 
fn  unfrequented  glooms,  or  shaggy  banks, 
Steep,  and  divided  by  a  babbling  brook. 
Whose  murjnurs sooth  them  all  the  livelong  day, 
When  by  kind  duty  fix'd.     Among  the  roots 
Of  hazel,  pendent  o'er  the  plaiiiiive  sin  am. 
They  frame  the  first  foundatiori  of  their  donns  ; 
Dry  sprigs  of  trees,  in  artful  fab;ic  laid, 
And  bound  with  clay  together.     Now  'tis  naught 
But  restless  hurry  through  the  busy  air. 
Beat  by  unnumber'd  wings.     The  swallow  swe«  t>s 
The  slimy  pool,  to  build  his  haiising  house 
Intent.     Aiul  often,  from  the  carVless  bark 
Of  herds  and  flocks,  a  thousand  tiiggi-  g  bills 
Fliick  hair  and  wool;  and  oft,  when  ui;nbserved, 
Stt'al  from  the  barn  a  straw  :  till  .'-oft  <)nd  warm. 
Clean  and  cornplfte,  their  habitation  grr)vi's. 

As  thus  the  patient  dam  assiduous  sits. 
Not  to  be  tempted  from  her  tender  task, 
Or  by  sliarp  hunger  or  by  smootli  deliifiit, 
Though  the  whole  looseu'd  Spring  around  her  blow*, 


Off 

VI 


w 


Ucr  sympathizing  lover  takes  his  stand 

II  mh  on  th'  opponent  bank,  and  ceaseless  singa 

The  tedious  time  away ;  or  else  supplies 

Her  place  a  moment,  while  she  sudden  flits 

To  pick  the  scanty  meal.    Th'  appointed  time 

With  pious  toil  fulfil  d,  the  callow  young, 

Warm'd  and  expanded  into  perfect  life, 

Their  brittle  bondaee  break,  and  come  to  light, 

A  helpless  family,  demanding  food. 

With  constant  clamour:  O  what  passions  then 

What  melting  sentiments  of  kindly  care 

On  the  new  parent  seize !  away  they  fly, 

Affectionate,  and  undesiring  bear 

The  most  delicious  morsel  to  their  young  ; 

Which  equally  distributed,  again 

Tlie  search  begins.     E'en  so  a  gentle  pair. 

By  fortune  sunk,  but  form'd  of  generous  mould, 

And  charm'd  with  cares  beyond  the  vulgar  breast, 

In  some  lone  cot  amid  the  distant  woods, 

Pustain'd  alone  by  providential  Heaven, 

Oft,  as  they  weeping  eye  their  infant  train, 

Check  their  own  appetites,  and  sive  them  all. 

Nor  toil  alone  they  scorn  :  exaliing  love, 
By  the  great  Father  of  the  Spring  inspired, 
Gives  instant  courage  to  the  fearful  race, 
And  to  the  simple,  art      With  stealthy  wing, 
Should  some  rude  foot  their  woody  haunts  molest, 
Amid  a  neighbouring  bush  they  silent  diop. 
And  whirring  thence,  as  if  alarm'd,  decei%'e 
rh'  unfeeling  schoolboy.     Hence,  around  the  head 
Of  wandering  swain,  the  wiiite  wing'd  plover  wheeJs 
Her  sounding  flight,  and  then  directly  on 
In  Ions  excursion  skims  the  level  lawn. 
To  tempt  him  from  her  nest.    The  wild  duck,  hence, 
O'er  the  rough  moss;  and  o'er  the  tiackless  waste 
The  heath-hen  flutters,  pious  fraud :  to  lead 
Tlie  hot  pursuing  spaniel  far  astray. 

Be  not  the  Muse  ashamed  here  to  bemoan 
Her  brothers  of  the  grove,  by  tyrant  Man 
Inhuman  caught,  and  in  the  narrow  cage 
From  liberty  confined,  and  boundless  air. 
Dull  are  the  pretty  slaves,  their  plumage  dull, 
Ragged,  and  all  its  brightening  lustre  lost ; 
Nor  is  that  sprightly  wildness  in  their  notes, 
Which  clear  and  vigorous  warblea  from  the  beech. 


4a 


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Tfi' 


A) 


hi 


f-^X^'^^i 


r 


SPRING. 


C^' 


O  then,  ye  friends  of  , eve,  and  ove-taught  song, 
Spare  the  soft  tribes,  tliis  barbarous  art  forbear  ; 
If  on  your  bosom  innocence  can  win, 
Music  engage,  or  piety  persuade. 

But  let  not  chief  the  nightingale  lament 
Her  ruin'd  care,  too  delicately  framed 
To  brook  the  harsh  confinement  of  the  cage. 
Oft  when,  returning  with  her  loaded  biU, 
Th'  asionish'd  mother  finds  a  vacant  nest, 
By  the  hard  hand  of  unrelenting  clowns 
Robb'd,  to  the  ground  the  vain  provision  falls, 
Her  pinions  rutfle,  and  low  drooping  scarce 
Can  bear  the  mourner  to  the  poplar  shade ; 
Where,  all  abandon'd  to  despair,  she  sings 
Her  sorrows  through  the  night ;  and,  on  the  bough 
Sole  sitting,  still  at  every  dying  fall 
Takes  up  again  her  lamentable  strain 
Of  winding  wo ;  till,  wide  around,  the  woods 
Sigh  to  her  song  and  with  h«r  wail  resound. 

Biu  now  the  feather'd  youth  their  former  bounds. 
Ardent,  disdain  ;  and,  weighing  oft  their  wings, 
Demand  the  free  possession  of  the  sky  : 
This  one  glad  office  more,  and  then  dissolves 
Parental  love  at  once,  now  needless  grown. 
Unlavish  Wisdom  never  works  in  vain 
'Tis  on  some  evening,  sunny,  grateful,  mild, 
When  naught  but  balm  is  breathing  through  the  woods 
With  yellow  lustre  bright,  that  the  new  tribes 
Visit  the  spacious  heavens,  and  look  abroad 
On  Nature's  common,  far  as  they  can  see 
Or  wing,  their  range  and  pasture.     O'er  the  bougl » 
Dancing  about,  still  at  the  giddy  verge 
Their  resolution  fails  ;  their  pinions  still, 
In  loose  libration  stretch'd  to  trust  the  void 
Treniblins  refuse :  till  down  before  them  fly 
The  parent  guides,  and  chide,  exhort,  comn:and, 
Or  push  them  off.    The  surging  air  receives 
Its  plumy  burden;  and  their  self-taught  wings 
Winnow  the  waving  element.     On  ground 
Alighted,  bolder  up  again  they  lend, 
Farther,  and  farther  on,  the  lengthening  fliL'ht ; 
Till  vanish'd  every  fear;  and  ever>-  power 
Roused  into  life  and  action,  light  in  air 
Th'  acquitted  parents  see  their  soaring  race, 
And  once  rejoicing,  never  know  them  mo  e. 


90  SPRING. 

High  from  the  sun.^it  of  a  craggy  chiF 
Hung  o'er  the  deep,  such  as  amazing  iVowns 
On  utmost  Hilda's*  shore,  whose  lonely  race 
Rpsign  the  setting  sun  to  Indian  worlds, 
Tlie  royal  eagle  draws  his  vigorous  young, 
S'roue  pounced,  and  ardent  with  paternal  fire 
Now  fit  to  raise  a  kingdom  of  tlieir  cnvn. 
He  drives  them  from  his  fort,  the  towering  seat. 
For  ages,  of  his  empire ;  which,  in  peace, 
Unstain'd  he  holds,  while  many  a  league  to  sea 
He  wines  his  course,  and  preys  in  distant  isles. 

Should  I  my  steps  turn  to  the  rural  seat, 
Whose  lofty  elms  and  venerable  oaks 
Invite  the  rook,  who  high  amid  the  boughs. 
Ill  early  Spring  his  airy  city  builds, 
And  ceaseless  caws  amusive;  there,  well  pleased, 
I  might  the  various  polity  survey 
Of  the  iiiix'd  household  kind.    The  careful  hen 
Calls  all  her  chirping  family  around, 
Fed  and  defended  by  the  fearless  cock  ; 
Whose  breast  with  ardour  flames  as  on  he  walks, 
(Jracefiil,  and  crows  dctiance.     In  the  pond, 
The  finely  rhecker'd  duck,  before  her  train. 
Rows  garrulous.    The  stately  sailing  swan 
Gives  riut  his  snowy  plumage  to  the  gale; 
A;id,  arching  proud  his  neck,  with  oary  feet 
Hears  forward  fierce,  and  guards  his  osier  isle, 
Protective  of  his  young.     The  turkey  nigh, 
[.oud  threatening,  reddens  ;  while  the  peacock  spre^^Is 
His  every  colour'd  glory  to  the  sun, 
.\nA  swims  in  radiant  majesty  along. 
C)er  the  whole  homely  scene,  the  cooing  dove 
Flies  thick  in  amorous  chase,  and  wanton  rolls 
Thf  slancing  eye,  and  turns  the  changeful  neck 

While  thus  the  gentle  tenants  of  the  shade 
Indulge  their  purer  loves,  the  rougher  world 
Of  bruti  s  below  rush  funous  into  flame 
And  fierce  desire.    Through  all  his  lusty  veins 
The  bull,  deep  scorch'd,  the  ragin<i  passion  feels. 
Of  pasture  sick,  and  negligent  of  food, 
Scarce  seen,  he  wades  among  the  yellow  broom, 
While  o'er  his  ample  sides  the  ranibliiig  sprays 
Luxuriant  shoot ;  or  throutih  the  mazy  wood 
Dejected  wanders,  nor  th'  enticing  bud 

*  The  furthest  of  tlie  western  islands  of  Scotland 


«* 


g^-. 


1 


Ciops  though  it  presses  on  his  care  "ess  sense. 
And  oft,  in  jealous  maddening  fancy  wrapp'd, 
He  seeks  the  fight ;  and,  idly  butting,  feigns 
His  rival  irored  in  every  knotty  trunk. 
Him  should  he  meet,  the  bellowing  war  begins  : 
Their  eyes  flash  fury ;  to  the  hollow'd  earth, 
Whence  the  sand  flies,  tliey  mutter  bloody  deeds, 
And  groaning  deep,  tli'  impetuous  baiile  mix: 
VVliile  the  fair  heifer,  balmy-breathing  near, 
Stands  kindling  up  their  rage.    The  trembling  steed 
With  this  hot  mipulse  seized  in  every  nerve. 
Nor  heeds  the  rein  nor  hears  the  sounding  thong ; 
Blows  are  not  felt ;  but  tossing  high  his  head, 
And  by  the  well  known  joy  to  di?-tant  plains 
Attracted  strong,  all  wild  he  bursts  away  ; 
O'er  rocks  and  woods  and  craggy  mountains  flies, 
And,  neighing,  oa  th'  aerial  summit  takes 
Th'  exciting  gale  ;  then,  steep  descending,  cleaves 
The  headlong  torrents  foaming  down  the  ifills, 
E'en  where  the  madness  of  thestraiten'd  stream 
Turns  in  black  eddies  rouTid  :  such  is  the  force 
With  which  his  frantic  heart  and  sinews  swell 

Nor  undelightcd  by  the  boundless  Spring 
Are  the  broad  monsters  of  the  foaming  deep; 
From  the  deep  ooze  and  gelid  cavern  roused, 
They  flounce  and  tumble  in  unwieldy  joy. 
Dire  were  the  strain  and  dissonant,  to  sing 
The  cruel  raptures  of  the  savage  kind  : 
How,  by  this  flame  their  native  wrath  sublimed, 
They  roam,  amid  the  fury  of  their  heart, 
The  far  resounding  waste  in  fiercer  bands. 
And  growl  their  horrid  loves.    But  this  the  ti  cms 
I  sing  enraptured,  to  the  British  Fair, 
Fo/hids:  and  leads  me  to  the  mountain  brow, 
Where  sits  the  shepherd  on  the  grassy  turf, 
Inhaling,  healthful,  the  descending  sun. 
Aiound  him  feeds  his  many  bleating  flock. 
Of  various  cadence ;  and  his  sportive  lamhs, 
This  way  and  that  convolved,  in  friskful  glee, 
Their  frolics  play.     And  now  the  sprightly  rare 
[nvites  them  forth ;  when  swift,  the  signal  given., 
They  start  away,  and  sweep  the  massy  mound 
That  runs  aMund  the  hill :  the  rampart  once 
Of  iron  war,  in  ancient  barbarous  times 
When  disunited  Britain  ever  blt;d 


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SPRING. 

^ost  in  eternal  broil :  ere  yet  she  grew 

To  tlii;.  deep  laid  indissoluble  state, 

Where  Wealth  and  Commerce  lift  their  golden 'Je»l3j 

And  o'er  our  labours  Liberty  and  Law, 
Impartial,  watch  ;  the  wonder  of  a  world ! 

What  is  this  mighty  breath,  ye  sages,  say, 
That,  ill  a  powerful  language,  felt,  not  heard, 
li.s  ructs  the  fowls  of  heaven;  and  through  their'     w 
Those  arts  of  love  ditfuses  1    What,  but  God  % 
fi  spiriiig  God?  who,  boundless  Spirit  all 
A  nd  unremitting  Energy,  pervades, 
A  ijnsts,  sustains,  and  agitates  the  whole. 
U  B  ceaseless  works  alone;  and  yet  alone 
Si  eins  not  to  work :  with  such  perfection  framed 
Is  ihis  complex  stupendous  scheme  of  things. 
Rut,  tli'iugh  conceal'd,  to  every  purer  eye 
■{'.r  iiiformins  Author  in  his  works  appears: 
C'lii^f,  lovely  Spring,  in  thee  and  thy  soft  scenea 
Tiif  Smiling  God  is  seen  ;  while  water,  earth, 
And  air  attest  his  bounty  ;  which  exalts 
T'lf  brute  creation  to  this  finer  thought, 
And  annual  melts  their  undesigning  hearts 
Pri>f:i-ely  thus  in  tenderness  and  joy. 

?!ill  let  my  song  a  nobler  note  assume, 
Aiifl  sins  th'infusive  force  of  Spring  on  man; 
V.  lnj;i  heaven  and  earti),  as  if  contending,  vie 
'J'o  raise  his  being  and  serene  his  soul, 
Can  he  forbear  to  join  thegeneral  smfle 
Of  Xarure  ?    Can  fierce  passions  vex  his  breast, 
While  every  pale  is  peace,  and  every  grov« 
(.-  nieUidy  ?     Hence  !  from  the  bounteous  walks 
Offlowin;;  Spring,  ye  sordid  sons  of  earth, 
Hard  and  unfeeling  of  another's  wo; 
Or  only  lavish  to  yourselves;  away  ! 
Rill  c<i"me,  ye  generous  minds,  in  whose  wide  thougW 
Of  all  his  works,  creative  Bounty  burns 
VVi;h  warmest  beams;  and  on  your  open  front 
And  liberal  ej'e,  sits,  from  his  dark  retreat 
liiviting  modest  Want.     Nor,  till  invoked, 
Can  restless  goodness  wait;  your  active  search 
Leaves  no  cold  wintry  corner  unexplored  ; 
Like  silent  working  Heaven,  surprising  oft 
The  lonely  heart  wiih  unexpectea  good  • 
For  you  the  roving  spirit  of  the  wind 
Blows  Sprics  abroad  ;  for  you  the  teeming  clouds 


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SPRlNa. 

Desrend  in  gladsome  plenty  o'er  the  world; 
And  the  sun  sheds  his  kindest  rays  for  you, 
Ye  flower  of  human  race  !  in  these  green  days 
Reviving  sickness  lifts  her  languid  head: 
Life  flows  afresh  ;  and  young  eyed  Health  exalts 
The  whole  creation  round.     Contentment  walks 
The  sunny  glade,  and  feels  an  inward  bliss 
Spring  o'er  his  mind,  beyond  the  power  of  kings 
To  purchase.     Pure  serenity  apace 
Induces  thought  and  contemplation  still. 
By  swift  degrees  the  love  of  Nature  works. 
And  warms  the  bosom  ;  till  at  last  sublimed 
To  rapture  and  enthusiastic  heat. 
We  feel  the  present  Deity,  and  taste 
The  joy  of  God  to  see  a  happy  world! 

These  are  the  sacred  feelings  of  thy  heart, 
Thy  heart  inform'd  by  reason's  purer  ray, 
0  Lyttleton,  the  friend!  thy  passions  thus 
And  meditations  vary,  as  at  large 

Courting  the  muse,  through  Hagley  Park  thou  stray'et 
Thy  British  Tempe!  there  along  the  dale. 
With  woods  o'erhung,  and  shagg'd  with  mossy  rocka 
Whence  on  each  hand  the  gushing  waters  play. 
And  down  the  rough  cascade  white  dashing  fall, 
f)r  gleam  in  lengthen'd  vista  through  the  trees, 
You  silent  steal;  or  sit  beneath  the  shade 
Of  solemn  oaks,  that  tuft  the  swelling  mounts 
Thrown  graceful  round  by  Nature's  careless  hand. 
And  pensive  listen  to  the  various  voice 
Of  rural  peace  :  the  herds,  the  flocks,  the  birds. 
The  hollow-whispering  breeze,  the  plaint  of  rills. 
That,  purling  down  amid  the  twisted  roots 
Which  creep  around,  their  dewy  murmurs  shake 
On  the  sooth'd  ear.     From  these  abstracted  oft, 
You  wander  through  the  philosophic  world; 
Where  in  bright  train  continual  wonders  rise, 
Or  to  the  curious  or  the  pious  eye. 
And  oft,  conducted  by  histaric  truth. 
You  tread  the  long  extant  of  backward  time: 
Planning  With  wa/m  benevolence  of  mind. 
And  honest  zeal  dnwarp'd  by  party  rage, 
Britannia's  weal;  how  fromthe  venal  gulf 
To  raise  her  virtue,  and  her  arts  revive. 
Or  turning  thence  thy  view,  these  grayer  tuoughta 
The  Muses  charm:  while,  with  sure  taste  refined, 
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f'lu  draw  th'  inspiring  breath  of  ancient 
Till  nobly  rises,  emulius,  thy  own. 

Perhaps  thy  loved  Lucinda  shares  thy  walk, 
With  soul  to  thine  attuned.    Then  Nature  all 
Wears  to  the  lover's  eye  a  look  of  love; 
And  all  the  tumult  of  a  g  lilty  world, 
Toss'd  by  ungenerous  patisions,  sinks  away. 
The  tender  heart  is  animated  peace  ; 
And  as  it  pours  its  copious  treasures  forth, 
[n  varied  converse,  softening  every  theme, 
You,  fiequent  pausing,  turn,  and  from  her  eye«, 
Where  meeken'd  sense  and  amiable  grace 
And  lively  sweetness  dwell,  enraptured,  drink 
That  nameless  spirit  of  ethereal  joy, 
L'nutieiable  happiness  :  which  love 
Alone  bestows,  and  o    a  favour'd  few. 
Meantime  you  gain  the  height,  from  whose  fair  brow 
The  bursting  prospect  spreads  immense  around: 
And  snatch'd  o'er  hill  and  dale,  and  wood  and  iawik 
And  verdant  field,  and  darkening  heath  between, 
AnJ  villages  embosom'd  soft  in  trees, 
And  p[>iry  towns  by  surging  columns  mark'd 
Of  household  smoke,  your  eye  excursive  roams: 
Widi-  stretching  fioni  the  hall,  in  whose  kind  haanl 
The  [lospitable  Gmius  lingers  still. 
To  where  the  broken  landscape,  by  degrees 
Ascending,  roughens  into  rigid  hills  ; 
O'r-r  which  the  Cambrian  mountains,  like  fa^  cbud? 
That  skirt  the  blue  horizon,  dusky  rise. 

Flush' d  by  the  spirit  of  the  genial  year, 
Nosv  {ii^v\  the  virgin's  cheek  a  fresher  bloom 
Phoo;s.  jf'ss  and  less,  the  live  carnation  round; 
Her  lips  blush  deeper  sweets:  she  breathes  of  youth. 
The  shining  raoistiirp  swells  into  her  eyes 
In  Itrigliter  flow  ;  her  wit'iinc  bosom  heaves 
With  palpitations  wild;  ki'id  iumul's  seize 
Her  vf'ias,  and  all  her  yielding  soul  is  love. 
From  the  keen  gaze  her  lover  turns  away, 
Full  of  the  dear  ecstatic  power,  and  sick 
With  sighing  languishment.    Ah  then,  ye  fair  ! 
He  greatly  cautious  of  your  sliding  hearts  • 
Dart-  not  111'  infectious  sish  ;  the  pleadins  look, 
Dov.-ncast  and  low,  in  meek  submission  dress'd, 
But  full  of  guile.     Let  not  the  fervent  tongue, 
Promo'  to  deceive,  w  th  adulation  ssfooth, 


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SPHINO. 

Gain  on  your  piii posed  will.    Nor  in  tlie  fet,wer, 
Vlhere  woodbines  flaunt,  and  roses  slied  a  couch, 
V/liile  Evenino;  draws  iier  crnnson  curtains  round, 
Trust  j'our  soft  minutes  witli  betrayins:  ]Man. 

And  let  th'  aspirinz  youth  beware  of  love. 
Of  tlie  smootfi  glance  beware  ;  for  'lis  too  late 
When  on  his  heart  the  torrent  softness  pours  ; 
Then  Avisdom  prostrate  lies,  and  fading  fame 
Dissolves  in  air  away ;  while  the  fond  soul, 
VVrapp'd  in  gay  visions  of  unreal  bliss. 
Still  paints  tli'  illusive  form  ;  the  kindling  grace  ; 
Th'  eniicina:  smile  ;  the  modest  seeming  eye, 
Beneath  whose  beauteous  beams,  belying  heaven. 
Lurk  searchless  cunning,  cnselty,  and  death. 
And  still  false-warbling  in  his  cheated  ear. 
Her  siren  voice,  enchanting,  draws  him  on 
To  guileful  shores  and  meads  of  fatal  joy. 

E'en  present,  in  the  very  lap  of  love 
Inglorious  laid  ;  while  music  flows  around, 
f 'erfumes,  and  oils,  and  wiue,  and  wanton  hours ; 
hm\d  the  roses  fierce  Repentance  rears 
Her  snaky  crest :  a  quick  returning  pang 
Hhoots  through  the  conscious  heart ;  where  honoui  »il) 
And  great  design,  atrainst  th'  oppressive  load 
Of  luxury,  by  fit*,  impatient  heave. 

But  absent,  what  fantastic  woes  aroused, 
Rage  in  each  thought,  by  restless  nujsing  fed. 
Chill  the  warm  cheek,  and  binst  the  bloom  of  lifel 
Neglected  fortune  flie-j ;  and  sMdins  swift, 
Prone  into  ruin,  fall  his  scorn'd  aft'airs. 
ris'  naught  but  glnom  around  :  the  darken'd  sun 
Loses  his  liaht.     TJie  rosy  bosom'd  Spring 
To  weeping  Fancy  pines  ;  and  yon  bright  arch, 
Contracted,  bends  into  a  dusky  vault. 
All  Nature  fades  extinct ;  and  she  alone 
Heard,  felt,  and  seen,  possesses  every  thought, 
Fills  every  sense,  and  pants  in  every  vein. 
Books  are  but  formal  dulne^s,  tedious  friends  ; 
And  sad  amid  the  social  band  he  sits, 
Lonelv  and  unattentive.     From  his  tongue 
Th'  unfinish'd  period  falls:  while,  borne  away 
On  swelling  thought,  his  wafted  spirit  flies 
To  the  vain  bosom  of  his  distant  fair  ; 
And  leaves  the  semblance  of  a  lover,  fiv'd 
In  melancholy  site,  with  head  declined 


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And  love-dejected  eyes.    Sudden  he  starts, 
Shook  from  his  tender  trance,  and  restless  runs 
To  glimmerhig  shades  and  sympathetic  glooms; 
Where  tlie  dun  umbrage  o'er  the  falling" stream 
j-lomantic  hangs  ;  there  through  the  pensive  dusk 
Strays  in  heart  thrilling  meditation  lost, 
Indulging  all  to  love  :  or  on  the  bank 
Thrmvn,  amid  drooping  lilies,  swells  the  brcfze 
With  sighs  unceasuig,  and  the  brook  with  teais. 
Thus  in  soft  anguish  he  consumes  the  day, 
Nf>r  quits  his  deep  retirement,  till  the  Moon 
Peeps  throu2h  the  chambers  of  the  fleecy  east, 
Enlighten' d  by  degrees,  and  in  her  train 
Leads  on  the  gentle  Hours  ;  then  for.-li  he  walks, 
Beneath  the  ti'enibling  languish  of  her  beam, 
With  soften'd  soul,  and  woos  the  bird  of  eve 
'^o  mingle  woes  with  his  :  or  while  the  world 
And  all  tbe  sons  of  care  lie  liush'd  in  sleep, 
Associates  with  the  midnight  shadows  drear  ; 
And,  sighing  to  the  lonely  taper,  pours 
His  idly  tortured  heart  into  the  page, 
Meant  for  the  moving  messenser  of  love  ; 
Where  rapture  burns  on  rapture,  every  line 
With  rising  frenzy  fired.     But  if  on  bed 
Delirious  flung,  sleep  from  his  pillow  flies, 
All  nisht  he  tosses,  nor  the  balmy  powei 
In  any  posture  finds ;  till  the  gray  Mom 
Lifts  her  pale  lustre  on  the  paler  wretch, 
Exanimate  by  love  ;  and  thep  perhaps 
Exhausted  Nature  sinks  a  %v\ii'.^  to  rest. 
Still  interrupted  by  distracted  dreams, 
That  o'er  the  sick  imagination  rise, 
And  in  black  colours  paint  the  mimic  scene. 
Oft  with  the  enchantress  of  his  soul  he  talks; 
Sometimes  in  crowds  distress'd  ;  or  if  retired 
To  secret  windi!i2  flower-enwoven  bowers, 
Far  from  the  dull  impertinence  of  Man, 
lust  as  he,  credulous,  his  endless  cares 
Begins  to  lose  in  blind  oblivious  love 
Snatch'd  from  her  j-ielded  hand  he  knows  not  how 
Through  fores's  huge,  and  long  untraveU'd  neaths 
With  desolation  brown,  he  wanders  waste, 
Fn  night  and  tempest  wrapp'd  :  or  shrinks  aghast, 
Back  from  the  bending  precipice  ;  or  wades 
The  turbid  freara  below,  and  strives  to  read 


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The  faither  shore;  where  succourless  and  sad, 
She  with  extended  arms  his  aid  implores; 
But  strives  in  vain  ;  borne  by  the  outrageous  flood 
To  distance  down,  he  rides  H>'>  t'dgy  wave, 
Or  wiieim'd  beneath  the  Dursr^-  eddy  sinks. 

These  are  the  charming  agones  of  iove, 
Whose  misery  dehglus.    But  through  the  heart 
Sliould  jealousy  its" venom  once  diffuse, 
'Tis  then  delightful  misery  no  more, 
But  agony  unmix'd,  incessant  gall, 
Corroding  every  thought,  and  blasting  all 
Love's  paradise.     Ye' fairy  prospects,  then, 
Ye  beds  of  roses,  and  ye  bowers  of  joy, 
Farewell,  ye  "learnings  of  departed  peace, 
Shine  out  your  last!  the  yellow  tinging  plague 
Internal  vision  taints,  and  in  a  night 
Of  livid  gloom  irnacination  wraps. 
Ah  then!  instead  of  love-enliven'd  cheeks. 
Of  sunny  features,  and  of  ardent  eyes 
With  flowing  rapture  biiuht,  dark  looks  succeed. 
Suffused  and  glaring  with  untenrier  fire ; 
A  clouded  aspect  and  a  burning  cheek. 
Where  the  vvnole  poison'd  soul,  malignant,  sits, 
And  friL'i.iens  luve  away.     Ten  thousand  fears 
Invented  wild,  ten  thousand  Irantic  views 
Of  horrid  rivals,  hanging  on  the  charms 
For  which  he  melts  in  fondness,  eat  him  up 
With  fervent  anguish  and  consuniirg  rage. 
In  vain  reproaches  lend  their  idle  aid. 
Deceitful  pride,  and  resolirtion  frail. 
Giving  false  peace  a  moment.     Fancy  pours 
Afresh  her  beauties  on  his  busy  thought. 
Her  first  endearments  twining  round  the  sobl, 
With  all  the  witchcraft  of  ensnaring  love. 
Straight  the  fierce  storm  involves  his  mind  anew, 
Flames  through  the  nerves,  and  boils  a'ong  the  veiiw; 
While  anxious  doubt  distracts  the  tortured  heart: 
For  e'ei.  the  sad  a-surance  of  his  fears 
Were  ease  to  vvliat  he  feels.    Thus  the  warm  youth, 
Wlioin  love  deludes  into  his  thorny  wilds, 
Tluouuh  flowery  tempting  paths,  or  leads  a  life 
Of  fe\er'd  rapture,  or  of  cruel  care; 
His  brightest  aims  extiiiguish'd  all,  and  all 
His  .ively  moments  running  down  to  waste. 
But  happy  *-Xev '  the  happiest  of  their  kir.d! 


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Whom  sentler  star?  unite,  and  in  one  fate 

Their  hearts,  their  fortunes,  and  their  heings  blc.id 

'Tis  not  the  coarser  lie  of  human  laws, 

Unnatural  oft,  and  foreign  to  the  mind, 

That  binds  their  peace,  but  hamiouy  itself, 

Attunins  all  their  passions  into  Ip^-e; 

Where  friendship  full  exerts  her  softest  power, 

Perfect  esteem  cnliven'd  by  desire 

Ineli'iible.  and  sympathy  of  soul  ; 

Thou«rht  meeting  thought,  and  will  pteventing  will, 

With  boundless  confidence :  for  nauuht  but  lov 

Can  answer  love,  and  render  bliss  secure. 

Let  liim,  ungenerous,  who.  alone  intent 

To  ble^s  himself,  from  sordid  parents  buys 

The  loathing  \'irgin,  in  eternal  care 

Well  merited  consume  his  nights  and  days. 

Let  barbarous  nations,  whose  inhuman  love 

Is  wild  desire,  fierce  as  the  suns  they  ftel ; 

Let  eastern  tyrants  from  tlie  light  of  Heaven 

Snclude  their' b(jsom  slaves,  meanly  possess'd 

Of  a  mere  lifeless,  violated  form  : 

While  those  whom  love  cemenis  in  holy  faith, 

And  equal  transport,  free  as  Nature  live, 

Disdaining  fear.    What  is  the  world  to  ihem, 

Its  pomp,  its  pleasure,  and  its  nonsense  all ! 

Wiio  in  each  other  clasp  whatever  fair 

Hich  fancy  forms  and  lavish  hearts  can  wish: 

Something  than  beauty  dearer,  should  they  look, 

Or  on  ihe  mind,  or  mind-illumined  face; 

Truth,  goodness,  honour,  harmony,  and  love, 

The  richest  bounty  of  indulgent  Heaven. 

Meantime  a  smilins  offspring  rises  round, 

/\nd  mingles  both  their  graces.     By  degrees 

The  human  blossom  blows ;  and  every  day, 

Soft  as  it  rolls  along,  shows  some  new  charm, 

The  father's  lustre,  and  the  mother's  bloom. 

Then  infant  reason  £rrows  apace,  and  calls 

For  the  ki;:d  hand  of  an  assiduous  care. 

Delightful  task  :  to  renr  the  tender  thought, 

To  t'  arh  the  young  idea  how  to  shoot, 

To  pour  the  fresh  instruction  o'er  the  mind, 

To  breathe  th'  enlivening  spirit,  and  to  fix 

The  generous  purpose  in  the  glowina  breast. 

Oh,  speak  the  joy  1  ye,  wliom  the  sudden  tear 

Surprises  often,  while  j-ou  look  around. 


If4 


1 


SPRING. 

And  nolliing  strikes  your  eye  but  sights  of  bliss, 
All  various  Nature  pressing  on  the  heart : 
An  elegant  sufficiency,  content, 
Retirement,  rural  quiet,  friendship,  books, 
Ease  and  alternate  labour,  useful  life, 
Progressive  virtue,  and  approving  Heaven 
These  are  the  niatcliles?  joys  of  virtuous  love ; 
And  thus  their  moments  fly.    The  Seasons  thus, 
As  ceaseless  round  a  jarring  world  they  roll, 
Still  find  them  happy;  and  consenting  Spring 
Sheds  her  own  rosy  garland  on  their  heads 
Till  evening  comes  at  last,  serene  and  mild, 
When  after  the  long  vernal  day  rrf  life, 
Enamour'd  more,  as  more  remembrance  sw  (s 
With  many  a  proof  of  recollected  love, 
Together  down  they  sink  in  social  sleep ; 
Together  freed,  their  gentle  spirits  fly 
To  8C*"ne8  wiiere  love  and  bliss  inimortal  rei^ 


^ 


mm 


t:  "'■^  "^'f 


he  subject  proposed  Invocation.  Address  lO  Mr. 
Dodington.  An  introductory  ••itlectlon  on  the  motion 
of  the  heavenly  bodies ;  whence  the  succession  of  the 
seasons.  As  the  face  of  Nature  in  this  season  is  almost 
uniform,  the  profrress  of  the  poem  is  a  description  of  a 
summer's  da>.  The  dawn.  Sunrising.  Hymn  to  the 
sun.  Forenoon.  Summer  insects  described.  Hay- 
making. Sheep-shearing.  Noonday.  A  woodland  re- 
treat. Group  of  herds  and  flocks.  A  solemn  grove : 
how  it  affects  a  contemplative  mind.  A  cataract,  and 
rude  scene.  View  of  Summer  in  he  torrid  zone.  Storm 
of  thunder  and  Uchtning.  A  tale.  The  storm  over,  a 
serene  afternoon.  Bathing.  Hour  of  walking.  Tran- 
siion  to  the  prospect  of  a  rich  well  cultivated  country ; 
wliich  introduces  a  panegyric  on  Great  Britain.  Sun- 
set. Evening.  Night.  Summer  meteors.  A  comet 
The  whole  concluding  with  the  praise  of  philosophy. 


K- 
/© 


SUMMER. 


~^t 


From  bi  ghu  nin?  fiokls  of  ether  fair  disclosed, 
Cliild  of  the  Sun,  refulgoiit  Summer,  conies, 
In  pride  of  yoiuh,  nnd  felt  tliroiich  Nature's  depth: 
He  conies  attended  by  the  sultry  Hours 
And  ever  fanning  breezes  on  his  u  ay  ; 
While,  from  his  ardent  look,  the  turning  Spring 
Averts  her  blushful  face  ;  aid  earth  and  skies, ' 
All  smiling,  to  his  hot  domirioti  leaves. 

Hence,  let  nie  haste  into  the  mid  wood  shade. 
Where  scarce  a  sunbeam  \>  arders  throuirh  the  glooai; 
And  on  the  dark  green  grass,  beside  the  hi  ink 
Of  haunted  stream,  that  by  tiie  niois  of  oak 
Kollso'er  the  rocky  channel,  lie  at  large. 
And  sing  the  glories  of  the  circlirg  year. 

Come,  inspiration  !  from  thy  hermit  seal. 
By  mortal  seldom  found:  may  Fancy  dare. 
From  thy  tix'd  serious  eye,  and  rai>tiired  glance 
Shot  on  surrounding  Heaven,  to  steal  one  look 
Creative  of  the  Poet,  every  power 
Exalting  to  an  ecstasy  of  soul. 

And  thou,  my  youthful  Muse's  early  friend. 
In  whom  the  hiirnan  graces  all  unite  : 
Pure  light  of  mitid  and  tenderness  of  heart : 
Genius  and  wisdom  ;  tie  gay  social  sense, 
By  decency  cliastis<  d  ;  goodness  and  wit, 
Iri  seldom  nieeiii  g  harmony  con-bined  ; 
Unb'.emish'd  honour,  and  an  active  zeal 
For  Britain's  glory.  Liberty,  and  Man- 
O  DodinstonI  attend  my  rnrni  ^(  im, 
Stoop  to  my  theme,  inspirit  every  line, 
And  teach  "me  to  deserve  thy  just  applatise. 


fr\ 


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}^ 


With  wliji!  ni!  .uviul  woiM  nnulviiiir  jjower 
Wert;  rirsi  lii'  luiwu-ldy  plaiieis  iauiicirii  along 
I'll'  illiiiiiiable  vcui'.  ilii.sio  remain, 
Amid  the  tinx  (if  iiiapy  iliousar.d  years, 
That  oft  \ia<  swept  the  u  iiiiiii  raceofiiit^u, 
And  all  their  iaboiir'd  u  )!iiiineiiis,  away, 
Firm,  nnremitliiisr,  niatcliles>-,  in  their  course; 
To  the  kind  temper'd  chaniie  of  niiilit  and  day, 
And  of  the  season?  over  i^tejiiin;:  rc»;iri.I, 
Minutely  lailhful :  such  th'  All-perfect  Hand' 
T]iat  poised,  inijiels,  and  rnles  the  steady  whole. 

When  now  no  more  th'  alternaui  'J'wins  are  fired, 
And  Cancer  reddens  with  tlie  solar  blazCj' 
Short  is  the  doubtfiil  empire  of  the  night; 
And  sooji,  observant  of  approaching  day, 
The  meek-eyed  Mora  appears,  mother  of  dews, 
At  first  faint  gleaming  in  the  dappled  east: 
Till  far  o'er  ether  sjircdd  the  widening  glow; 
And,  from  before  the  lustre  of  her  face, 
White  break  the  clouds  away.     With  quicken'd  step, 
Brown  Night  retires:  young  Day  pours  in  apace, 
And  opens  all  the  lawny  prospect  wide. 
Tlie  dripping  rock,  the  UiOunlain's  misty  top 
Swell  on  the  sitrht,  and  brighten  with  the  dawn. 
Blue,  througli  the  dusk,  the  smoking  currents  shine; 
And  from  tlie  bladed  field  the  fearful  hare 
Limps,  awkward:  while  along  the  forest  glade 
The  wild  deer  trip,  and  often  turning  gaze 
At  early  passenger.     Music  awakes 
The  native  voice  of  undissembled  joy, 
And  thick  around  the  woodland  hynms  arise. 
Roused  by  the  cock,  the  soon  clad  shepherd  leaves 
His  mossy  cottage,  where  with  peace  he  dwells; 
And  from  the  crowded  fold,  in  order,  drives 
His  flock,  to  taste  the  verdure  of  the  morn. 

Falsely  luxurious!  will  not  man  awake; 
And,  springing  from  the  btd  of  sloth,  enjoy 
The  cool,  the  fragrant,  and  the  silent  hour, 
To  meditation  due  and  sacred  song? 
For  is  there  aught  in  sleep  can  charm  the  wise  ? 
To  lie  in  dead  oblivion,  losing  half 
The  fleetiuL'  mfirnents  of  too  short  a  life ; 
Total  extinction  of  th'  enlighten'd  soul! 
Or  else  to  feverish  vanity  alive. 
Wildcr'd  and  tossing  ilirough  distemper'd  dreams  t 


rP> 


■=1  ,'>^ 


^ 


Who  would  In  such  a  gloomy  state  remain 
Longer  than  Nat'ire  craves ;  when  every  Muse 
And  every  blooming  pleasure  wait  without, 
To  bless  the  wildly  devious  momir,2  «alk? 

But  yonder  conies  the  powerful  King  of  Day, 
Rejoicing  in  the  east.    The  les&enin^  cloud, 
The  kindling  azure,  and  the  mountain'.^  brow 
Dluined  with  fluid  gold,  his  near  approach 
Betoken  glad.-    Lo :  now,  apparent  all, 
Aslant  the  dew-bright  earth,  and  colour'd  air, 
He  looks  in  boundless  majesty  abroad  : 
And  sheds  the  shining  day,  that  burnish'd  plays 
On  rocks,  and  hills,  and  towers,  and  wandering  sticanna 
Hiah  gleaming  from  afar.     Prime  cheerer,  Light  I 
Of  all  material  beings  first  and  best ! 
Efflux  divine  !  Nature's  resplendent  robe! 
Without  whose  vesting  beauty  all  were  wrapp'd 
In  unessential  ffloom  ;  and  thou,  O  Sun  ; 
Soul  of  surroMndinir  worlds  !  in  whom  best  seen 
Bhines  out  thy  ]Maker!  may  I  sing  of  ihee? 

'Tis  by  thy  secret,  strong,  attractive  force, 
As  with  a  chain  indissoluble  bound, 
Thy  system  rolls  emire  :  from  the  fa?  bourne 
Of  utmost  Saturn,  wheeling  wide  his  round 
Of  thirty  years  ;  to  Mercury,  whose  disk 
Can  scarce  be  caught  by  philosophic  eye, 
Lost  in  the  near  effulgence  of  thy  blaze. 

Informer  of  the  planetaiy  train  I 
Without  whose  quickening  glance  their  cumbrous  orbs 
Were  brute  unlovely  mass,  inert  and  dead. 
And  not,  as.  now,  the  sreen  abodes  of  life! 
How  many  forms  of  being  wait  on  thee ! 
Inhaling  spirit;  from  th'  unfetter'd  mind. 
By  thee  sublimed,  down  to  the  daily  race, 
The  mixing  myriads  of  thy  setting  beam. 

The  vegetable  world  is  also  thine, 
Parent  of  Seasons!  who  the  pomp  precede 
That  waits  thy  throne,  as  through  thy  vast  domain, 
Annual,  alons  the  bright  ecliptic  road. 
In  world-rejoicinz  state,  it  moves  snblirne. 
Meantime  th'  expecting  nations,  circled  gay 
With  all  the  various  tribes  of  foodful  earth, 
Implore  thy  bounty,  or  send  grateful  up 
A.  common  hymn :  while,  round  thy  beaming  ;ar, 
digh  seen,  the  Seasoos  -^ad,  in  sprightly  dance 


C' 


Harmonious  knit,  the  ro=y  finger'd  Hours 
The  Zephyrs  floating  loose,  the  timely  Raina, 
Of  bloom  ethereal  the  light  footed  Dews 
And  soften'd  hito  joy  the  surly  Siorms. 
These,  in  successive  turn,  with  lavish  hand, 
Shower  every  beauty,  every  fragrance  shower, 
herbs,  flowers,  and  fruits;  and,  kindling  at  thy  touch 
Fr.iin  land  to  land  is  flush'd  the  vernal  year. 

Nor  to  the  surface  of  enliven'd  earth, 
Graceful  with  hills  and  dales  and  leafy  woods, 
Her  liberal  tresses,  is  thy  force  coiitined : 
R  It,  to  the  bowel'd  cavern  darling  deep. 
The  mineral  kinds  confess  thy  mighty  power. 
Eff'ulsent.  hence  the  veiny  marble  shuies; 
riencc  Labour  draws  his  tools ;  hence  burnish'd  War 
Gleams  on  the  day ;  the  nobler  works  of  Peace 
Hence  b'ess  mankind,  and  generous  Commerce  binds 
The  round  of  nations  in  a  golden  chain. 

Th'  unfruitful  rock  itso-f,  impregn'd  by  thee, 
In  dark  retirement  forms  the  I-jcid  stone. 
The  lively  diamond  drinks  thy  purest  rays. 
Collected  light,  compact;  th.it,  polish' d bright, 
And  all  its  native  lustre  let  abroad. 
Dares,  as  it  sparkles  on  the  fs-r  one's  breast, 
With  vain  ambition  emulate  her  eyes. 
At  thee  the  ruby  liu'hts  its  deepening  glow, 
.And  with  a  wavuis  radiance  inward  flames. 
From  thee  the  sapphire,  solid  ether,  takes 
Fts  hue  cerulean;  and,  of  evenins;  tinct, 
■|"'ie  purple  streaming  amethyst  is  thine. 
With  thy  own  smile  the  yellow  topaz  bums. 
.Vor  deeper  verdure  dyes  the  robe  of  Spring, 
When  first  she  gives  it  to  the  southern  gale. 
Than  the  green  emerald  shows.     But,  all  combined 
Thick  throu2h  the  wliiienins  opal  play  thy 
Or.  flyins  several  from  its  surface,  form 
A  tr  tnWing  va  iance  of  revolving  hues, 
A-:  thR  site  varies  in  t)ie  gazer's  hand. 

The  ve-y  de:id  creutim,  from  thy  touch, 
.Assumes  a  Miiniic  life.     By  thee  refined, 
!m  hrj'jhier  mazes  the  relucent  stream 
Plays  o'er  the  mead.    The  precipic^^  abrupt, 
Projecting  horror  on  the  blacken'd  flood, 
S  'f-ens  at  thy  return.     The  desert  joys, 
Wildlv  through  all  lis  melancholy  twunda. 


\1 


% 


^f 


SUMMER. 

Rude  ruins  glitter;  and  the  briny  deep, 
Seen  from  some  pointed  promontory's  top, 
Far  to  the  blue  hor'zon's  utmost  verire, 
Restless,  reflects  a  iloating  gleam.     But  this, 
And  all  the  much  transponed  Muse  can  sing, 
Are  to  thy  beauty,  dignity,  and  use, 
Unequal  far ;  great  delegated  source 
Of  light,  and  life,  and  grace,  and  joy  below 

How  shall  I  then  attempt  to  sing  of  Him  I 
Who,  Light  Himself,  in  uncreated  light 
Invested  deep,  dwells  awfully  retired 
From  mortal  eye,  or  angel's  purer  ken; 
Whose  single  smile  has,  from  the  first  of  time, 
Fill'd,  overflowing,  all  those  lamps  of  heaven 
That  beam  for  ever  thjoi.gh  tt  t  boundless  sky 
But,  should  he  hide  his  face,  th   astonish'd  sun 
And  all  th'  rxtinguish'd  stars  would,  loosening,  reel 
Wide  from  their  spheres,  and  Chaos  come  again. 

And  yet,  was  every  faltering  tongue  of  Man, 
Almighty  Father  I  silent  in  thy  praise. 
Thy  Works  themselves  would  raise  a  general  voic«, 
E'en  in  the  depth  of  solitary  woods 
By  human  foot  untrod  ;  proclaim  thy  power, 
And  tp  the  quire  celestial  Thee  resound, 
Th'  eternal  cause,  support,  and  end  of  all ! 

To  me  be  Nature's  volume  broad  display'd , 
And  to  peruse  its  all  instructing  page. 
Or,  haply  catching  inspiration  thence. 
Some  easy  passage,  raptured,  to  translate. 
My  sole  delight ;  as  through  the  falling  glooms 
Pensive  I  stray,  or  with  the  rising  dawn 
On  Fancy's  eagle  wing  excursive  soar. 

Now,  flaming  up  the  heavens,  the  potent  sun 
Melts  into  limpid  air  the  high  rais'd  ck)uds, 
And  morning  fogs,  that  hover'd  round  the  hilla 
In  pai  ty-colour'd  bands ;  till  wide  unveil'd 
The  face  of  Nature  shines,  from  where  earth  seems, 
Far  stretch'd  around,  to  meet  the  bending  sphere. 

Half  in  a  blush  of  clustering  roses  lost. 
Dew-dropping  Coolness  to  the  shade  ret'jes; 
There,  on  the  verdant  turf  or  flowerj'  bed. 
By  Eclid  founts  and  careless  rills  to  muse; 
While  tyrant  Heat,  dispreading  through  the  sky, 
With  rapid  sway,  his  burning  influence  darts 
On  man  and  beast,  and  herb,  and  tepid  stream 


i. 


p 


^! 


SUMMER. 

Vho  can  unpltying  see  the  flowery  race, 
Shell  by  the  morn,  their  new  flush'd  bloom  leeign^ 
Before  the  parchina;  beam  ?  so  fade  tlie  fair, 
When  fevers  revel  through  their  azure  veins, 
lint  one,  tlie  lofty  follower  of  the  sun, 
Sad  when  he  sets,  shuts  up  her  yellow  leaves, 
Droi.i.ing  all  night;  and,  when  he  warm  returns, 
Poiats  her  enamour'd  bosom  to  his  ray. 

Home,  from  h's  morning  task,  the  sw-  -    retreats 
His  tiock  before  him  stepping  to  the  fold . 
While  the  full  udder'd  mother  lows  around 
The  cheerful  cottage,  then  expecting  food, 
The  food  of  innocence  and  health!  the  daw, 
Tlie  rook,  and  magpie,  to  the  gray  grown  oaks 
That  the  calm  village  in  their  verdant  arms, 
Sheltering,  embrace,  direct  their  lazy  flight; 
Where  on  the  mingling  boughs  they  sit  emliower  d 
All  the  hot  noon,  till  cooler  hours  arise. 
Faiirt  underneath,  the  household  fowls  convep.";; 
And,  in  a  corner  of  the  buzzing  shade, 
The  housedog,  with  the  vacant  greyhound,  lies, 
Ontstretch'd  and  sleepy.     In  his  slumbers  one 
Attacks  the  nig'i'iy  thief,  and  one  exults 
L)'er  hiil  and  dale  ;  till,  wakon'd  by  the  wasp, 
They  starting  snap.     Nor  shall  the  Muse  disdain 
To  let  the  little  ni^i-^^y  summer  race 
Live  in  lier  lay,  and  flutter  through  her  song; 
Not  njean  though  simple  ;  to  the  sun  allied, 
From  him  they  draw  their  animating  fire. 

Waked  by  his  warmer  ray,  the  reptile  young 
Come  wiiig'd  abroad  ;  by  the  light  air  upborne, 
Lighter,  and  full  of  soul.     From  every  chink, 
And  secret  corner,  where  they  slept  away 
The  wintry  storms;  or  rising  from  their  tombs. 
To  higher  life;  by  myriads,  forth  at  once. 
Swarming  they  pour;  of  all  the  varied  hues 
Their  beauty-bearning  parent  can  disclose. 
Ten  thousand  forms,  ten  thousand  diflferent  tribes, 
People  the  blaze.     To  sunny  waters  some 
By  fatal  instinct  fl.y ;  whereon  the  pool 
They,  sportive,  wheel :  or,  sailing  down  the  stream, 
Are  snatch'd  immediate  by  the  quick-eyed  trout 
Or  darting  salmon.     Through  the  green  wood  gUdi 
S'line  love  to  stray ;  there  lodged,  amused,  and  /eu, 
in  the  fresh  leaf.     Luxurious,  others  make 


o 


--i' 


SUMMER. 


4» 


The  meads  their  choice,  and  visit  every  flower, 
And  every  latent  herb  ;  lor  the  sweet  task, 
To  propagate  their  Itinds,  and  where  to  wrap, 
In  what  soft  beds,  their  young  yet  undisclosed, 
Employs  their  tender  care.     Some  to  the  hou«e 
The  fold,  and  dairy,  hungry,  bend  their  flight ; 
Sip  round  the  pail,  or  taste  the  curdling  clieese: 
Oft,  inadvertent,  from  the  milky  stream 
They  meet  their  ffrte  ;  or  weltering  in  the  bowl. 
With  powerless  wines  around  them  wrapp'd,  expire 

But  chief  to  heedless  flics  the  window  proves 
A  constant  death  ;  where,  gloomily  retired. 
The  villain  spider  lives,  cunning  and  fierce, 
Mixture  abhorr'd  !  amid  a  mangled  heap 
Of  carcasses,  in  eacer  watch  lie  sits, 
O'erlooking  all  his  waving  snares  around. 
Near  the  dire  cell  the  dreadless  wanderer  oft 
Passes,  as  oft  the  ruffian  shows  his  front ; 
The  prey  at  last  ensnared,  he  dreadful  darts, 
With  rapid  glide,  alons  the  leaning  line  ; 
And,  fixing  in  the  wretch  his  cruel  fangs, 
Strikes  backward  grimly  pleased  ;  the  fluttering  wing 
A.nd  shriller  sound  declare  extreme  distress, 
And  ask  the  helping  hospitable  hand. 

Resounds  the  living  surface  of  the  ground  : 
Nor  undelishtful  is  the  ceaselens  hum, 
To  him  who  muses  through  the  woods  at  noon; 
Or  drowsy  shepherd,  as  he  lies  reclined, 
With  half  shut  eyes,  beneath  the  floating  shade 
Of  willows  gray,  close  crowding  o'er  the  brook. 

Gradual,  from  these  what  numerous  kinds  descend 
Evading  p'en  the  microscopic  eye  ? 
Full  nature  swarms  with  life  ;  o'ne  wondrous  mass 
Of  animals,  or  atoms  organized, 
Waiting  the  vital  breath,  when  parent  Heaven 
Shall  bid  his  spirk  blow.     The  hoarj-  fen, 
In  putrid  steams,  emits  the  living  (loud 
Of  pestilence.     Through  subterranean  cells. 
Where  sparchins  sunbeams  scarce  can  find  a  way, 
Earth  animated  heaves.    The  flowery  leaf 
Wants  not  its  soft  inhabitants.     Secure, 
Within  its  windinjr  citadel,  the  stone 
Holds  multitudes.     Put  chief  the  forest  boughs 
That  dance  unnuniber'd  to  ilie  playful  breeze, 
The  downy  orchard,  and  the  melting  pulp 
D 


^;/( 


iv 


4' 


SUH3IER. 


^■^si 


Of  mellow  fruit,  the  nameless  nations  feed 

Of  evanescent  insects.    Where  the  pool 

Stands  mantled  o'er  the  green,  invisible, 

Amid  the  floating  verdure  millions  stray. 

Each  liquid  too,  whether  it  pierces,  soothes, 

[nflanu's,  refreshes,  or  exalts  the  taste, 

With  various  forms  aboi  ads.    Nor  is  the  stream 

Of  purest  crystal,  nor  the  lucid  air. 

Though  one  transpare"t  vacancy  it  seems, 

Void  of  their  unseen  people.    These,  conceal'd 

By  the  kind  art  of  forming  Heaven,  escape 

The  gro-ser  eye  of  man:  for,  if  the  worlds 

In  worlds  enclosed  should  on  his  senses  burst, 

From  cares  ambrosial  and  the  nectar'd  bowl 

He  would  abhorrent  turn  ;  and  in  dead  night. 

When  silence  sleeps  o'er  all,  be  slunn'd  with  noiae 

Let  no  presuming  impious  railer  tax 
Creative  Wisdom,  or  if  aught  was  form'd 
In  vain,  or  not  for  admirable  ends. 
Shall  little  hauizhty  Ignorance  pronounce 
His  works  unwise,  of  which  the  smallest  part 
Exceeds  the  narrow  vision  of  her  mhid  7 
As  if  upon  a  full  proportion'd  dome, 
On  swelling  columns  heavid,  the  pride  -.fart! 
A  1  riric  fly,  whose  ff^eble  ray  scarce  spreads 
An  inch  around,  with  blind  presumption  bold, 
Should  dare  to  tax  the  structure  of  the  whole. 
And  liv.^s  the  man,  who~e  universal  eye 
Has  swept  at  once  th'  unbounded  scheme  of  thing! 
lM;trk'd  their  depenrtance  so,  and  firm  accord. 
As  with  unfaltering  accent  to  conclude 
That  this  availeth  nausht  ?     Has  any  seen 
Tin-  inishty  chain  of  beinus,  lessening  dovra 
From  Infinite  Perfection  to  the  brink 
Of  dreary  nothing,  desolate  abyss! 
From  winch  astonish'd  though',  recoiling,  turns? 
Till  then  alone  let  zealous  praise  ascend, 
And  hymns  of  holy  wonder,  to  that  Power, 
Wiiose  wisdom  shines  as  lovely  on  our  minds 
As  on  our  smiling  eyes  his  servant  sun. 

Thick  in  yon  stream'of  light,  a  thousand  ways, 
Upward  and  downward,  thwarting  and  convolved, 

he  quivering  nations  sport :  till,  tempest  wing'd, 
Fierce  Winter  sweeps  them  front  the  facts  of  day. 
E'en  »o,  luxurious  men,  unheeding  pass 


A^ 


^1 


-A. 


An  idle  summer  life  in  fortune's  shine, 
A  season's  glitter!  tliu'j  they  flutter  on 
From  toy  to  toy,  from  vanity  to  vice  ; 
Til),  blown  away  by  death,  obUvion  comes 
Behind,  and  strikes  thera  from  the  book  of  life. 

Now  swarms  the  village  o'er  the  jovial  mead: 
The  rustic  youth,  brown  with  meridian  toil, 
Healthful  and  strong  ;  full  as  the  summer  rose 
Blown  by  prevailing  suns,  the  ruddy  maid, 
Half  naked,  swelling  on  the  sight,  and  all 
Her  kindled  graces  burning  o'er  her  cheek. 
E'en  stoopina  age  is  here  ;  and  infant  hands 
Trail  the  long  rake,  or  with  the  fragrant  load 
O'ercharged,  amid  the  kind  oppression  roll. 
Wide  tlies  the  tedded  trrain  ;  all  in  a  row 
Advancing  broad,  c  wheeling  rotind  the  field, 
They  spread  the  breathing  harvest  to  the  sun, 
That  throws  refreshful  round  a  rural  smell : 
Or,  as  they  rake  the  green-appearing  ground, 
And  drive' the  duskyVave  along  the  mead, 
The  russet  haycock  rises  thick  behind, 
In  order  gay.     While  heard  from  dale  to  dale, 
Waking  the  breeze,  resounds  the  blended  voice 
Of  happy  labour,  love,  and  social  glee. 

Or  rushing  thence,  in  one  diffusive  band 
They  drive  the  troubled  flocks,  by  many  a  dog 
Compell'd,  to  where  the  mazy  running  brook 
Forms  a  deep  pool  ;  this  bank  abrupt  and  high, 
And  that  fair  spreading  in  a  pebbU  d  shore. 
Urged  to  the  giddy  brink,  much  is  the  toil, 
The  clamour  much,  of  men  and  boj's  and  dogs, 
Ere  the  soft  fearful  people  to  the  flood 
Commit  their  woolly  sides.     And  oft  Uie  swain, 
On  some  impatient  seizing,  hurls  them  in  : 
luibolden'd  then,  nor  hesitating  more, 
Fast,  fast  they  plunge  amid  the  flashing  wave, 
And  panting  "labour^to  the  furthest  sho'e. 
Rep.'ated  this,  till  deep  the  well  wash'd  fleece 
Flas  drunk  the  flood,  and  from  his  lively  haunt 
The  trout  is  bainsh'd  by  the  sordid  stream  ; 
Heavy  and  drippins,  to  the  breezy  brow 
Slow  niove  the  ha-mless  race  :  where,  as  they  sj' 
'I'heir  swelling  treasures  to  the  suntiy  ray, 
[nly  dlsturb'ri,  and  wondering  what  t!ii-  wi'd 
'^v.    Outrageous  tumult  mea>is,  their  loua  comphiihts 


1..:-— f 

>/ 

if® 


The  country  fill :  and,  toss'd  from  rock  to  rock, 
Incessant  bleatings  run  around  the  Iiills. 

At  last,  of  snowy  white,  the  gather'd  flocks 
Are  in  the  wattled  peo  innunierous  press'd. 
Head  above  head  :  and  ranged  in  lusty  rows 
'J'iie  shepherds  sit,  and  whet  the  sounding  shears. 
The  housewite  waits  to  roll  her  fleecy  stores, 
With  all  her  gay  dress'd  maids  attending  round. 
One,  chief,  in  gracious  dignity  enthroned. 
Shines  o'er  the  rest,  the  pastoral  queen,  and  rays 
I'er  smiles,  sweet  beaming,  on  her  shepherd  king 
While  the  glad  circle  round  ihem  yield  their  soula 
T..  festive  mirth,  and  wit  that  knows  no  gall. 
?.i''antime  their  joyous  task  goes  on  apace  : 
S'Mue  mingling  stir  the  melted  tar,  and  some, 
Deep  on  the  new  shorn  vagrant's  heaving  side, 
'J'o  stamp  the  master's  cipher  ready  stand  ; 
Others  th'  UTiwilling  wether  drag  along; 
And,  elorving  in  his  might,  the  sturdy  boy 
Holds  by  the  twisted  horns  th'  indignant  ram. 
Bt.'l.old  where  bound,  and  of  its  robe  bereft 
Pv  needy  man,  that  all-depending  lord. 
How  meek,  how  patient,  the  mild  creature  lies  ' 
AVhat  softness  in  its  melancholy  face. 
What  dumb  complaining  innocence  appears  ! 
Fear  not,  ye  g.-ntle  tribes,  'tis  not  the  knife 
Of  horrid  slaughter  that  is  o'er  you  waved; 
No,  'lis  the  tender  swain's  well  guided  shears, 
Wtt')  having  now,  to  pay  his  annual  care, 
P'liiow'd  your  fleece,  to  you  a  cumbrous  load, 
Will  send  you  bounding  to  your  hills  again. 

A  simple  scene  !  yet  hence  Britannia  sees 
Her  soiid  srandeur  Vise :  hence  she  commands 
Til'  exalted  stores  of  every  brighter  clime, 
The  treasures  of  the  Snn  without  his  rags : 
Fl'nice.  ferve!!t  all   with  cul'ure,  toil,  and  arts. 
Wide  slows  her  land  :  her  drfadful  thunder  hence 
Rides  o'er  The  waves  sublime,  and  now,  e'en  new. 
Fmpending  hangs  o'er  Gallia's  hnmhled  coast  ; 
Hence  rules  the  ciiclins  deep,  and  awes  the  world 

Tis'  rnging  noon  ;  and,  vertiral,  the  snir 
Darts  on  the  head  direct  his  ibrceAil  rays. 
O'er  heaven  ami  earth,  far  as  the  ranging  eye 
Can  sweep,  a  da/./.ling  deluge  reij;ns--aud  all 


^^%f? 


^ 


^ 


'''"1 


10 


SUMMER. 

y  I  rom  pole  to  poI<  is  unrlistingiiisli'd  blaze, 

^j  A».         1 1  vain  the  sigiit.  dejected,  to  the  ground 
''"'/{  yjtoops  for  relief-  thence  hot  ascending  steams 

p  ^  And  keen  reflection  pain.    Deep  to  the  root 

V  f^  1  Of  vegetation  parch'd,  the  cleaving  fields 

t;yh  '  And  slippery  lawn  an  arid  hue  disclose, 

j,  ii    '  Blast  Fancy's  bloom,  and  wither  e'en  the  soul. 

\}ifj^  Echo  no  more  returns  the  cheerful  sound 

?/*"  Of  sharpening  scythe :  the  mower  sinking  heaps 

//  O'er  bin"  the  humid  hay,  with  flowers  perfumed ; 

PO'  And  scarce  a  chirping  grasshopper  is  heard 

<  '^"T^  Through  the  dumb  mead.     Distressful  Nature  panta 

The  very  streams  look  languid  from  afar  ; 
Or,  through  th'  unshelter'd  glade,  iinpatient,  seem 
To  hurl  into  the  covert  of  the  grove 

All-conquering  Heat,  oh  intermit  thy  wrath! 
And  on  my  throbbing  temf)les  potent  thus 
Beam  not  so  fierce  I  incessant  still  you  flow, 
And  still  another  fervent  flood  succeeds, 
Pour'd  on  the  head  profuse.     In  vain  I  sigh. 
And  restless  turn,  and  look  around  for  night; 
Night  is  far  off";  end  hotter  hours  approach. 
Thrice  happy  he  !  who  on  tiie  sunless  side 
Of  a  romantic  mountain,  forest  crown'd. 
Beneath  the  whole  collected  shade  reclines  : 
Or  in  the  gelid  caverns,  woodbine  wrought, 
And  fresh  bedevv'd  with  ever  spouting  streams, 
I5it5  coolly  calm  ;  while  all  the  world  without. 
Unsatisfied  and  sick,  tosses  in  noon. 
(Emblem  instructive  of  the  virtuous  man, 
\  Vho  keeps  his  temper'd  mind  serene  and  pure, 
Und  every  passion  aptly  harmonized, 
iimid  a  jarring  world  with  vice  inflamed. 

Welcome,  ye  shades!  ye  bowery  liiickets,  hail : 
Ve  lofty  pines  !  ye  venerable  oaks  ! 
Vg  ashes  wild,  resounding  o'er  the  steep  ! 
Delicious  is  your  shelter  to  the  soul, 
^is  to  the  hunted  hart  the  sallying  spring. 
Or  stream  full  flovvins,  that  his  swelling  sides 
I  ,ave5,  as  he  floats  alons  the  herbaged  brink. 
(!ool,  through  the  nerves,  your  pleasing  comfort  glides 
Vha  heart  beats  glad  ;  the  fresh  expanded  eye 
/vnd  ear  resume  their  watch ;  the  sinews  knit ; 
And  life  shoots  swift  through  ali  t-he  lighten'd  limbs. 
Around  th'  adjoining  brook,  that  purls  along 


SUMMER. 


T 


The  voca!  grove,  now  fretting  o'er  a  rock, 

Now  scarcely  moving  tlirough  a  reedy  pool, 

Now  starling  to  a  sudden  stream,  and  now 

Gently  diffused  into  a  limpid  plain; 

A  various  sroup  the  herds  and  flocks  compose, 

Rural  confusion  !  on  the  grassy  bank 

Some  ruminating  lie;  while  others  stand 

Flalf  in  the  flood,  and  often  bending  sip 

Ttie  circling  surface.    In  the  middle  droops 

The  strong  laborious  ox,  of  honest  front, 

Which  incomposed  be  shakes ;  and  from  his  sides 

The  troublous  insects  lashes  wiih  his  tail, 

Returning  still.     Amid  his  subjects  safe. 

Slumbers  the  monarch  swain ;  his  careless  arm 

Thrown  round  his  head,  on  downy  moss  suslain'd, 

Here  iaid  his  scrip,  with  wholesome  viands  fill'd  ; 

There,  listening  every  noise,  his  watchful  dog. 

Light  fly  his  skmibers.  if  perchance  a  flight 

Of  angry  gadflies  fasten  on  the  herd ; 

That  startling  scatters  from  the  shallow  brook, 

In  search  of  lavish  stream.     Tossing  the  foam. 

They  scorn  the  keeper's  voice,  and  scour  the  plain, 

Through  all  the  bright  severity  of  noon  ; 

While,  from  their  labouring  breasts  a  hollow  moan 

ProceoiMng,  runs  low  bellowing  round  the  hills. 

Oft  in  this  season  too  the  horse,  provoked, 
While  his  hi;!  sinews  full  of  spirits  swell ; 
Tremldiiia  with  vigour,  in  the  heat  of  blood, 
Springs  the  hich  fence;  and,  o'er  the  field  eft'iised. 
Darts  on  the  gioomy  flood,  wnh  steadfast  eye. 
And  heart  estiaiiged  to  fear:  his  nervous  chest, 
Lusuri  int  and  erect,  the  seat  of  strength  ! 
Bears  down  ili'  opposing  stream:  quenchless  his  thirst 
He  rakf-s  the  river  at  redoubled  draughts  ; 
And  with  wide  nostrils,  snorting,  skims  the  wave. 

Still  1st  me  pierce  into  the  midnight  depth 
Of  yonder  srove,  of  wildest  largest  growth: 
Th:it,  forming  high  in  air  a  woodland  quire. 
Nods  o'er  the  mount  beneath.  At  every  step, 
Sol-  inn  anri  slow,  th.e  shadows  blacker  fall. 
And  all  is  awful  listening  gloom  around. 

The-e  are  the  haunts  of  Meditation,  these 
Th"  scenes  where  ancient  hards  th'  inspiring  breath, 
Ecstatic,  felt;  and,  from  this  world  retired, 
Conversed  with  angels  and  immortal  forms, 


?1 


'^=<^?. 


'%W^= 


■F'*  ^ 


63 


a 


<3ii  gracious  erraiids  bent:  to  save  th(   Wl 

Of  virtue  struggling  on  the  brink  of  vi.  e  ; 

In  waking  whispers,  aijd  repealed  dreams, 

I'o  hint  pure  thought,  and  warn  tlie  favonrM  son!  ■ 

I'or  future  trials  fated  to  prepare ; 

To  prompt  the  poet,  who  devoted  gives 

His  muse  to  better  themes;  to  sooth  the  pangs 

Of  dying  worth,  and  from  tJie  patriot's  breast 

( Backward  to  mingle  in  detested  war, 

I>ut  foremost  when  encased;  to  turn  the  death  ; 

And  numberless  such  offices  of  love, 

II  aily  and  nightly,  zealous  to  perform. 

Shook  suddenfrom  the  bosom  of  the  sky, 
li  thousand  shapes  or  glide  athwart  the  dusk 
Of  stalk  majestic  on.    Deep  rouj^ed,  I  feel 
A  sacred  terror,  a  severe  delight, 
^  Creep  through  my  mortal  frame  ;  and  thus,  metiuiiks, 

'^  A  voice,  than  human  more,  th'  abstracted  ear 

Of  fancy  sti  ikes:— "  Be  not  of  us  afraid, 
}  I'oor  kindred  man  I  thy  fellow  creat  'fes,  we 

I'rom  the  same  Parent  Power  our  btings  drew, 
'I'he  same  our  Lord,  and  laws,  and  gnat  pursuit 
C'nce  some  of  us,  like  thee,  through  stormy  life 
I'oil'd,  tempest  beaten,  ere  we  could  retain 
This  holy  calm,  this  harmony  of  mind, 
>Vhere  purity  and  peace  immingle  charms. 
I  hen  fear  not  us ;  but  with  responsive  song, 
jVmid  these  dim  recesses,  undisturb'd 
By  noisy  folly  and  discordant  vice. 
Of  Nature  sing  with  us,  and  Nature's  God. 
flere  frequent,  at  the  visionary  hour, 
MHien  mushig  midnight  reigns  or  silent  nooii, 
Angelic  harps  are  in  full  concert  heard, 
And  voices  chanting  from  the  wood-c-own'  I  hili, 
riie  deepening  dale,  or  infnost  silva.      ode. 
A  privilege  bestow'd  by  us,  alone, 
£/_         Jh  Contemplation,  or  the  hallow'd  ear 
"7;'"^         Dl  poet,  swelling  to  seraphic  strain." 

And  art  thou,  Stanley,*  of  that  sacred  band '. 
Alas,  for  us  tf)0  soon  I  thouiih  raised  above 
rite  reach  of  human  pain,  above  the  flight 
0)  human  joy ;  yet,  with  a  mingled  ray 


^^r-%.f 


A  voung  lady,  "ho  died  r.t  the  age  of  eighteen,  in  tn« 
rear  V2S,  upon  whonx  Thomson  wrote  an  epitaph 


*' 


4 


MJ 


SJ 


Of  sadly  pleased  remnmbraiice,  must  Ihou  feel 

A  inoiher's  love,  a  motlier's tender  wo: 

Wiio  seeks  thee  still,  in  many  a  former  scene; 

Seeks  thy  fair  form,  thy  lovely  beaming  eyes,  _ 

Thy  pleasing  converse,  by  gay  lively  sense 

Inspired:  where  moral  wisdom  mildly  shone, 

Without  the  toil  of  art;  and  virtue  glow'd, 

In  all  her  smiles,  without  forbidding  pride. 

But,  O  thou  best  of  parents  !  wipe  thy  tears  ; 

Or  rather  to  Parental  Nature  pay 

The  tears  of  grateful  joy,  who  for  a  while 

Lent  thee  this  younger  self,  this  opening  bloom 

or  thy  eniighten'd  mind  and  gentle  worth. 

Believe  the  Muse  :  the  wintry  blast  of  death 

Kills  not  the  buds  of  virtue  ;  no,  they  spread, 

B'Mieaih  the  heavenly  beam  of  brighter  suns, 

Through  endless  ages,  into  higher  powers. 

Thus  up  the  mount,  in  airy  vision  wrapp'd, 
1  stray,  regardless  whiilier;  till  the  sound 
Of  a  near  fall  of  water  every  sense 
Wakes  from  the  charm  of  though',:  swift  shrinking bac», 
I  check  my  steps,  and  \iew  the  broken  scene. 

SuifX)th  to  tilt  shelving  brink  a  copious  fiood 
Rolls  fair  and  placid  ;  where  collected  ad, 
In  one  impetuous  torrent,  down  the  steep 
It  tiuiiidering  shoots,  and  shakes  the  country  round* 
At  first,  an  azure  sheet,  it  rushes  broad ; 
Then  whitening  by  degrees,  as  prone  it  falls, 
And  from  the  loud  resounding  rocks  below 
Pasird  in  a  cloud  of  loam,  it  sends  aloft 
A  hoary  mi<t,  and  forms  a  ceaseless  shower. 
Norca;i  the  tortured  wave  here  find  repose: 
Hat  raging  still  amid  the  shaggy  rocks, 
Now  flashes  o'er  tlipscaltt-r'd  fragments,  now 
Aslant  the  hollow  channel  rapid  darts; 
And  falling  fast  from  gradual  slope  to  slope. 
Wit'i  wild  infractt'd  course  and  le.ssen'd  roar, 
It  g.iins  a  safer  bed,  and  stoais,  at  last. 
Along  the  mazes  of  the  quiet  vale. 

Invited  from  the  cliff",  to  whose  dark  brow 
Heelings,  the  steej)  ascending  easle  soars. 
With  upward  pinions  through  the  t^ood  of  day; 
And,  giving  full  his  bosom  to  the  blaze. 
Gains  on  the  sun  ;  whi'°  all  the  tu;'.eful  race, 
Smix  bv  afflictive  noon,  disorder'd  drod 


*^l 


t 


% 


^iC 


Titi 


Deep  in  the  thicket;  or,  from  bower  to  bower 
Responsive,  force  an  interrupted  strain. 
The  stockdove  only  through  the  forest  coos, 
Mournfully  hoarse;  oft  ceasing  from  his  plaint, 
Short  interval  of  weary  wo  !  again 
The  sad  idea  of  his  murder'd  mate, 
Struck  from  his  side  by  savage  fowler's  guile, 
Across  liis  fancy  comes ;  and  then  resounda 
A  louder  song  of  sorrow  through  the  grove. 

Beside  the  dewy  border  let  me  sit, 
All  in  the  freshness  of  the  humid  air ; 
There  in  that  hoUow'd  rock,  grotesque  and  wild, 
An  ample  chair  moss-lined,  and  overhead 
By  flowering  umbrage  shaded  ;  where  the  bee 
Strays  diligent,  and  with  th'  extracted  balm 
Of  fragrant  woodbine  loads  his  little  thigh. 

Now,  while  I  taste  the  sweetness  of  the  shade, 
WTiile  nature  lies  around,  deep  lull'd  in  noon, 
Now  come,  bold  Fancy,  spread  a  daring  flight, 
And  view  the  wonders  of  the  torrid  zone : 
Olimes  unrelenting !  with  whose  rage  compared, 
Ton  blaze  is  feeble,  and  yon  skies  are  cool. 
'  See,  how  at  once  the  bright  eS"ulgent  sun, 
Rising  direct,  swift  chases  from  the  sky 
The  shortlived  twilight ;  and  with  ardent  blaze 
Looks  gaily  fierce  through  all  the  dazzling  air : 
He  mounts  his  throne ;  but  kind  before  him  sends. 
Issuing  from  out  the  portals  of  the  morn, 
The  general  breeze,*  to  mitigate  his  fire, 
And  breathe  refreshment  on  a  fainting  world. 
Great  are  the  scenes,  with  dreadful  beauty  crown'd 
And  barbarous  wealth,  that  see,  each  circling  year. 
Returning  suns  and  double  seasonsf  pass  : 
Rocks  ricTi  in  gemsj  and  mountains  big  with  mines. 
That  on  the  high  equator  ridgy  rise, 
Whence  many  a  bursting  stream  auriferous  plays : 
Majestic  woods,  of  every  vigorous  green, 

*  Which  blows  constantly  between  the  tropics  from  the 
east,  or  the  collateral  points,  the  northeast  and  southeast, 
caused  by  the  pressure  of  the  rarefied  air  on  that  before  it, 
according  to  the  diurnal  motion  of  the  sun  from  east  to  west. 

f  In  all  climates  between  the  tropics,  the  sun,  as  he 
passes  and  repasses  in  his  annual  motion,  is  twice  a  year 
vertical,  which  produces  this  effect. 


W^j 


'^^H  /* 


ft 


H   1 


58 

B'a^e  above  stage,  high  waving  o'er  the  hjla; 

Or  to  the  far  horizon  wide  dilfusf-d, 

A  boundless  deep  iinniensity  of  shade. 

Here  lofty  trees,  to  aiicieiii  ?oiil'  unknown, 

The  nol)le  sons  of  potent  heat  ind  floods 

I'rone  rushing  from  the  clouds,  rear  high  to  heav  >n 

■J'heir  thorny  stems,  and  broad  around  them  thrcv 

Mf-ridian  gloom.     Here,  in  eternal  prime, 

IJnnumber'd  fruits  of  keen  delicious  taste 

And  vital  spirit,  drink  amid  the  ciifFs, 

And  bnrninsi  sands  that  bank  the  shrubby  vales, 

Redinibled  day,  yet  in  their  rugged  coats 

A  friendly  juice  "to  cool  i;s  rage  contain. 

Bear  me,  P(miona !  to  thy  citron  gio>rs; 
To  where  the  lemon  and  the  pit-rcing  lime, 
With  the  deep  nrange,  glowini;  thtough  the  green, 
Their  lighter  glorits  blend.    Lay  me  reclined 
Heneath  tlie  spreading  tamarind  that  shakes, 
Fann'd  by  tlie  breeze,  its  fever  cooling  fruit. 
Deep  in  the  night  the  massy  iocust  sheds, 
Uuench  my  hot  limbs  ;  or  lead  me  through  the  mazo, 
Embowel  in;;  endless,  of  the  Indian  fig; 
Or  thrown  at  gayer  ease,  on  some  fair  brow, 
Let  me  beliold,  by  breezy  murmuis  cool'd. 
Broad  o'er  my  head  the  verdant  cedar  wave, 
And  high  palmetos  lift  their  graceful  s!iade. 
Or  stretch'd  amid  these  orchards  of  the  sun, 
Givpme  to  d  ain  the  cocoa's  milky  bowl. 
And  from  the  palm  to  draw  its  tleshening  wine: 
^Tore  bounteous  far  than  all  the  frantic  juice 
Which  Pacchus  pours      A'^or,  on  its  slender  twigs 
Low  bending,  be  the  full  pomegranate  scorn'd  : 
No  .creeping  through  the  woods,  the  gelid  race 
Of  berries.     Oft  in  humble  station  dwells 
r^hoastful  worth,  above  fastidious  jiomp. 
Witness,  thou  best  A  nana,  tliou  the  jride 
Of  vesilab'e  life,  btyond  whate'er 
rill-  pofts  imaged  in  the  golden  age: 
Quick  let  me  strip  thee  of  thy  tufty  coat, 
5p;>'id  thv  ambrosial  stores,  and  feast  wiih  .»>>vr, . 

From  these  the  prospect  varies.     Plains  immensf 
Li  •  R'retch'd  below,  interminable  meads, 
And  V  ist  savannahs,  where  the  wandering  eye, 
Unfix'd,  is  in  a  verdant  ocean  lest. 
Another  Flora  there,  of  bolder  h  tea 


'1 


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i 


SUMMER. 

And  richer  sweets,  beyond  our  garden's  pride, 
Plays  o'er  the  fields,  and  showers  with  sudden  han* 
Exiibjrant  spring:  for  oft  these  valle\-s  shift 
Their  green  embroider'd  robe  to  fiery  brown, 
And  swift  to  green  asain,  as  scorching  sun-.^ 
Or  streaming  dews  and  torrent  rains  prevail 

Along  these  lonely  regions,  where  retiret!. 
From  little  scenes  of  art,  great  Nature  dwelt. 
In  awful  solitude,  and  naught  is  seen 
But  the  wild  herds  that  own  no  master's  stai-' 
Prodigious  rivers  roll  their  fattening  seas: 
On  whose  luxuriant  herbage,  half  conceal' ', 
Like  a  fallen  cedar,  far  diffused  his  train, 
Cased  in  green  scales,  the  crocodile  extends. 
The  flood  disparts:  behold!  in  plaited  mail, 
Behemoth*  rears  his  head.    Glanced  from  his  side, 
The  darted  steel  in  idle  shivers  flies: 
[le  fearless  walks  the  plain,  or  seeks  the  hills  ; 
Where,  as  he  crops  his  varied  fare,  the  herds, 
[n  widening  circle  round,  forget  their  food, 
And  at  the  harmless  stranger  wondering  gaze. 

Peaceful,  beneath  primeval  trees,  that  cast 
Their  ample  shade  o'er  Mger's  yellow  stream, 
And  where  the  Ganjres  rolls  his  sacred  wave ; 
Or  mid  the  central ttepth  of  blackening  woods. 
High  raised  in  solemn  theatre  around, 
£.eansthe  huge  elephant:  wisest  of  brutes'. 
O  truly  wise  !  with  gentle  might  endow'd. 
Though  powerful,  not  destructive  !  here  he  sees 
Revolving  ages  sweep  the  changeful  earth, 
And  empires  rise  and  fall;  regardless  he 
Of  what  the  never  resting  rare  of  men 
Project :  thrice  happy !  could  he  'scape  their  guile, 
Who  mine.,  from  cruel  avarice,  his  steps; 
Or  with  his  towery  grandeur  swell  their  state, 
The  pride  of  kinss!  or  else  his  strength  pervert. 
And  bid  him  rage  amid  the  mortal  fray, 
Astonish'd  at  the  madness  of  mankind. 

Wide  o'er  the  winding  umbrage  of  the  floods, 
Like  vivid  blossoms  glowing  from  afar. 
Thick  swarm  the  brighter  birds.    For  Nature's  hand, 
That  with  a  sportive  vanity  has  deck'd 
The  plumy  nations,  there  her  gayest  hues 

*  The  Hippopotamus,  or  river-horse. 


4?. 


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SUMMER. 


s*=. 


't^^:^, 


Profusely  pours.*    But,  if  she  bids  them  shine, 
Array'd  in  all  the  beauteous  beams  of  day, 
Yet  frugal  still',  she  humbles  them  in  song. 
Nor  envy  we  ihe  gaudy  robes  they  lent 
Proud  Montezuma's  realm,  whose  legions  cast 
A  boundless  radiance  waving  on  the  sun, 
While  Philomel  is  ours  ;  while  in  our  shades, 
7^hrou2h  the  soft  silence  of  the  listening  night, 
The  sober-suited  songstress  trills  her  lay. 

But  come,  my  Muse,  the  desert  barrier  burst 
A  \vild  expanse  of  lifeless  sand  and  sky : 
And,  swifter  than  the  toiling  caravan, 
Shoot  o'er  the  vale  of  Sennar;  ardent  climb 
The  Nubian  mountains,  and  the  secret  bounds 
Of  jealous  Abyssinia  boldly  pierce. 
Thou  art  no  ruffian,  who  beneath  the  mask 
Of  social  commerce  comest  to  rob  their  wealth ; 
No  holy  fury  thou,  blaspheming  Heaven, 
With  consecrated  steel  to  stab  their  peace. 
And  throush  the  land,  yet  red  from  civil  wounds, 
To  spread  the  purple  tyranny  of  Rome. 
Thou,  like  the  harmless  beei  mayst  freely  range 
From  mead  to  mead  bright  with  exalted  flowers, 
From  jasmine  grove  to  CTove,  mayst  wander  gay 
Through  palmy  ?hades  and  aromatic  woods, 
That  grace  the  plains,  invest  the  peopled  hills, 
And  up  the  more  than  Alpine  mountains  wave. 
Tliere  on  the  breezy  summit,  spreading  fair 
For  many  a  league":  or  on  stupendous  rocks, 
Tliat  from  the  sun-redoubling  valley  lift. 
Cool  to  the  middle  air,  their  [awr.y  tops; 
Where  palaces  and  fanes  and  villas  rise; 
And  gardens  smile  around,  and  cultured  fields; 
.And  fountains  gush ;  and  careless  herds  and  flocks 
Securely  stray  ;  a  world  within  irself, 
Bisdainini.'  all  assault :  there  let  me  draw 
Fihereal  sou!,  there  drink  revivina  sales, 
fVnfusely  breathing  from  the  spicy  croves, 
A!ul  val<'s  of  frasra-ice;  there  at  distance  hfAT 
The  roaring  floods  and  cataracts,  that  sweep 
From  disembowel'd  earth  the  virgin  gold  ; 

*  In  all  tho  reeions  of  the  torrid  zone,  the  birds,  though 
niore  beautiful  in  their  plumage,  are  observed  lo  be  less 
icelodious  tlian  ours. 


V^ 


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btJMMiSR. 

And  o'er  the  varied  landscape,  restless,  rare, 
Fervent  with  li^'e  of  everj'  lairer  kind  : 
A  land  of  v/ondjrs!  which  the  sun  still  eyes 
With  ray  direct,  as  of  the  lovely  realm 
Enamour'd,  and  delighting  there  to  dwell. 

How  changed  the  scene !  in  blazing  height  of  n<  on 
The  sun  oppress'd,  is  plunged  in  thickest  gloom. 
Still  horror  reigns,  a  dreary  twilight  round, 
Of  struggling  night  and  day  malignant  mix'd. 
For  to  the  hot  equator  crowding  fast, 
Where,  highly  rarefied,  the  yielding  air 
Admits  tlieir  stream,  incessant  vapours  roll, 
Amazing  clouds  on  clouds  continual  heap'd ; 
Or  whirl'd  tempestuous  by  tlie  gusty  wind, 
Or  silent  borne  along,  heavy,  and  slow, 
With  the  big  stores  of  steaming  oceans  charged. 
Meantime,  amid  these  upper  seas,  condensed 
Around  the  cold  aerial  mountain's  brow, 
And  by  conflicting  winds  together  dash'd. 
The  thunder  holds  his  black  tremendous  throne; 
From  cloud  to  cloud  the  rending  lightnings  rage-, 
Till,  in  the  furious  elemental  war 
Dissolved,  the  whole  precipitated  mass 
Unbroken  floods  and  solid  torrents  pours. 

The  treasures  these,  hid  from  the  bounded  search 
Of  ancient  knowledge;  whence,  with  annual  pomp. 
Rich  king  of  floods!  o'erflows  the  sweUing  Nile, 
From  his" two  springs,  in  Gojam's  sunny  realm, 
Pure  wellini'  out,  he  through  the  lucid  fake 
Of  fair  Danibra  roils  his  infant  stream. 
There,  by  the  naiads  nursed,  he  sports  away 
His  playful  youth,  amid.the  fragrant  isles. 
That  with  unfading  verdure  smile  around. 
Ambitious,  thence  the  manly  river  breaks; 
And  ^aliieriig  many  a  flood,  and  copious  fed 
With  all  the  mellf>w'd  treasures  of  the  skj^, 
Winds  in  progressive  majesty  alona : 
Through  splendid  kingdoms  now  devolves  his  maze 
Now  wanders  wild  o'er  solitary  tracts 
Of  hfe-deser»ed  sand  ;  till,  glad  to  quit 
The  joyless  desert,  down  the  Nubia.-  rocks 
From  thundering  steep  to  steep,  h"  pours  his  urn, 
"  And  Egypt  joys  beneaih  the  spreadins  wave. 

His  brother  Niger  too,  and  all  the  floods 
la  whiLh  the  fidl  forni'd  maids  of  Afiic  lave 


Th?H  jetty  limbs  ;  and  all  that  from  llie  tract 

f)\  woody  mountains  stretcii'd  throiigii  gorgeoui;  Ind 

Fn'.I  on  Cor'inandel's  coast,  or  Malabar; 

Foiii  ]\Ienain"s*  oiiont  stream,  that  nightly  shines 

VVi:h  iij«t-ct  lafnps,  to  wiiere  Aurora  siieds 

Oil  Indiis'  smiling  banks  tiie  rosy  shower  : 

All,  at  tiiis  bounteous  season,  ope  their  urns, 

And  pour  untoiiing  harvest  o'er  the  land. 

Nor  iess  thy  world,  Columbus,  drinlis,  refresh'd, 
The  lavish  moisture  of  the  melting  year. 
Wide  o'er  his  isles,  the  branching  Oronoque 
R'llls  a  brown  deluge  ;  and  the  native  drives 
To  dwell  aloft  on  life-sullicing  trees. 
At  once  his  dome,  his  robe,  his  food,  and  arms. 
Swell'd  by  a  thousand  streams,  impetuous  liuri'd 
Fniin  all  tlie  roaring  Andes,  liuge  descends 
Tiie  mighty  Orellana.t    Scarce  the  Muse 
Dares  stretch  her  wing  o'er  this  enormous  mass 
Of  rushing  water;  scarce  she  dares  attempt 
The  sealike  Plata;  to  wiiose  dread  expanse. 
Continuous  depth,  and  wondrous  length  of  course, 
Our  floods  are  rills.    With  unabated  force, 
In  silent  dignity  they  sweep  alons, 
And  traverse  realms  unknown,  and  blooming  wilda. 
.'^nd  fruitful  deserts,  worlds  of  solitude. 
Where  the  sun  smiles  and  seasons  teem  in  vain, 
Unseen  and  unenjoy'd.     Forsaking  these, 
O'er  peopled  plains  they  fair  diffusive  flow, 
And  many  a  nation  feed,  and  circle  safe, 
Tn  their  soft  bosom,  many  a  happy  isle; 
The  seat  of  blameless  Pan,  yet  undisturb'd 
By  Christian  criuies  and  Europe's  cruel  sons. 
Thus  pouring  on  they  proudly  seek  the  deep. 
Whose  vanqiiish'd  tide,  recoiling  from  the  shock, 
Yields  to  the  liquid  weight  of  half  the  globe  ; 
And  Ocean  trembles  for  his  green  domain. 

But  what  avails  this  wondrous  waste  of  wealth  ? 
This  gay  profusion  of  luxurious  bliss? 
This  pomp  of  Nature  ?  what  tlicir  balmy  meads , 
Their  powerful  herbs,  and  Ceres  void  of  pain? 

*  Tlie  -ive-  that  runs  thrcuLh  Siani:  on  wlosebanksa 
vast  iii"lti!ude  of  :l!os"  insecis,  cnlled  Fire  Flies,  make  a 
Leautiliil  ri)  pearance  in  the  night. 

t  T.e  rive   of  the  Amazons. 


^#^ 


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By  vagrant  birds  dispersed,  and  wafting  winds, 
What  their  unplanted  fruits?  what  the  cool  draughtg, 
Th'  ambrosial  food,  rich  gums,  and  spicy  heabh. 
Their  forests  yield?  their  toiling  ir.sects  what, 
Their  silky  pride,  and  vegeuible  robes? 
Ah!  what  avail  their  fatal  treasures,  hid 
Deep  in  the  bowels  of  the  pitying  earth, 
Golconda's  gems,  and  sad  Potosi's  mines  ; 
Where  dwelt  the  gentlest  children  of  the  sun? 
What  all  that  Afric's  golden  rivers  roll. 
Her  odorous  woods,  and  shining  ivory  stores'* 
111  fated  race!  the  softening  arts  of  Peace, 
Whate'er  the  humaniziiiL'  Muses  teach  ; 
The  godlike  wisdom  of  the  temper'd  breast ; 
Progressive  truth,  the  patient  force  of  thought; 
Investigation  calm,  whtse  silent  powers 
Command  the  world  ;  die  li'iht  that  leads  to  heaves 
IKind  equal  rule,  the  government  of  laws, 
And  all-protecting  Freedom,  which  alone 
'Sustains  the  name  and  dignity  of  man: 
These  are  not  theirs.    The  i)arent  sun  himself 
•Seems  o'er  this  world  of  slaves  to  tyrannize  ; 
And,  with  oppressive  ray,  the  roseate  bloom 
Of  beauty  blasting,  gives  the  gloomy  hue, 
Vnd  feature  gross  :  or  worse,  to  ruthless  deeds, 
Mad  jealousy,  blind  rage,  and  fell  revenge, 
Their  fervid  spirit  fires.    Love  dwells  not  there, 
'I'he  soft  regards,  the  tenderness  of  life. 
The  hearl-s^lipd  tear,  th'  inetlabie  delight 
Of  sweet  humanity  :  these  court  the  beam 
Of  milder  climes  ;  in  selfish  fierce  desire, 
And  the  wild  fury  of  voluptuous  sense, 
There  lost.    The  very  brute  creation  there 
This  rajre  partakes,  and  burns  wiih  horrid  firo 
Lo !  the  sireen  serpent,  from  hi-  dark  abode, 
Which  even  Imagination  fears  to  tread. 
At  noon  forth  issuing,  gathers  up  his  train 
In  orbs  immense,  then,  darting  out  anew, 
Seeks  the  refreshing  fount;  bv  which  diffused, 
He  throws  his  folds:  and  wbile,  with  threatening  toiigae 
And  deathful  jaws  erect,  the  monster  curls 
His  fla'iiing  ci-est,  all  other  lliiist  appall'd. 
Or  shiv(  ring  flies,  or  chcck'd  at  distance  stands, 
Nor  dares  approadi.     But  still  more  direful  he, 
The  small  close  It.rking  miaiBHu'  of  faUj. 


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BUMMER. 


Who?e  high  concocted  venom  through  the  reins 
A  rapid  lightning  darts,  arresting  swift 
The  vital  current.     Form'd  to  humble  man, 
Ti.is  child  of  vengeful  Nature  !  there,  sublimed 
To  fearless  lust  of  blood,  the  savage  race 
Roam,  licensed  by  the  shading  hour  of  guilt, 
And  foul  misdeed,  when  the  pure  day  has  shut 
His  sacred  eye.    The  tiger  darting  fierce 
Impetuous  or  the  prey  his  glance  has  doom'd  : 
The  lively  shining  leopard,  speckled  o'er 
With  many  a  spot,  the  Oiauty  of  the  waste  ; 
And,  scorning  all  thn  taming  arts  of  man, 
'J'he  keen  hyena,  feilest  of  the  fell. 
Thf-se,  rusliing  from  th'  inhospitable  woods 
Of  Mauritania,  or  the  tufted  isles 
Tlirit  verdant  rise  amid  the  Libyan  wild, 
hiiiumerous  glare  around  their  shaggy  king, 
Majestic,  stalking  o'er  the  printed  sand  ; 
A.nd,  wifli  imperious  and  repeated  roars, 
Demand  their  fated  food.     The  fearful  flocks 
Crowd  near  the  guardian  swain  ;  the  nobler  herds- 
Where  round  their  lordly  bull,  in  rural  ease. 
They  ruminating  lie,  with  horror  hear 
The  coniins.'  raire.    Tli'  awaken'd  village  starts; 
And  to  her  fluttering  breast  the  mother  strains 
Her  thoughtless  infant.     From  the  pirate's  den. 
Or  stem  Morocco's  tyrant  fang  escaped, 
The  wretch  half  wishes  for  his  bonds  again: 
While,  uproar  aH,  the  \  ilderness  resounds, 
From  Atlas  eastward  to  the  frighted  Nile. 
Unhappy  he  !  who  from  the  first  of  joys, 
Society,  cut  off,  is  left  alone 
Amid  this  world  of  death      Day  after  day, 
Sad  on  the  jutting  eminence  he  sits, 
And  views  the  main  that  ever  toils  below ; 
Still  fondly  forniiuK  in  the  farthest  verge, 
Where  the  round  etlier  mixes  with  the  wave, 
Ships,  dim-discover'd,  droppina  from  the  clouds; 
At  evenins,  to  the  setting  sun  he  turns 
A  mournful  eye,  and  down  liis  dying  heart 
Si-iks  helpless  ;  while  the  woriied  roar  is  up. 
And  hiss  coatinual  through  the  tedious  night. 
Yd  ")oie,  e'en  here,  into  these  black  abodes 
Ofiiionsieis,  unappall'd.  from  stooping  Rome 
A  6  gaihy  Ci!-;sar,  Liberty  retired, 


m 


WW 


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SUMMER. 

Her  Cato  following  through  Xumidian  wilds ; 
Disdainful  of  Campania's  gentle  plains, 
And  all  the  green  delights  Ausonia  pours; 
When  for  them  she  must  bend  the  servile  knee 
And  fawning  take  the  splendid  robber's  boon. 

Nor  stop  the  terrors  of  these  regions  here. 
Commission'd  demons  oft,  angels  of  wrath, 
Let  loose  the  raging  elements.     Breatned  hot 
From  all  the  boundless  furnace  of  the  sky. 
And  the  wide  glittering  waste  of  burning  sand 
A  suffocating  wind  the  pilgrim  smites 
With  instant  death.     Patient  of  thirst  and  toil, 
Son  of  the  desert!  even  the  camel  feels. 
Shot  through  his  wither'd  heart,  the  fiery  blast. 
Or  from  the  black-red  ether,  bursting  broad. 
Sallies  the  sudden  whirlwind.     Straight  the  sands, 
Commoved  around,  in  gathering  eddies  play: 
Nearer  and  nearer  still  they  darkening  come; 
Till,  with  the  general  all-involving  storm 
Swept  up,  the  whole  continuous  wilds  arise ; 
And  by  their  noonday  fount  dejected  thrown, 
Or  sunk  at  night  in  sad  disastrous  sleep, 
Beneath  descending  hills,  the  caravan 
Is  buried  deep.     In  Cairo's  crowded  streets 
Th'  impatient  merchant,  wondering,  waits  in  vaiB, 
.vnd  Mecca  saddens  at  the  long  delay. 

But  chief  at  sea,  whose  every  flexile  wave 
Obeys  the  blast,  the  aerial  tumult  swells. 
In  the  dread  ocean,  undulating  wide. 
Beneath  the  radiant  line  that  girts  the  globe, 
The  circling  Typhon,*  whirl'd  from  point  to  poiot. 
Exhausting  all  the  rage  of  ail  the  sky. 
And  dire  Ecnephia*  reign.     Amid  the  heavens, 
Falsely  serene,  deep  in  a  cloudy  speckf 
Compress'd,  the  mighty  tempest  brooding  dwells: 
Of  no  regard,  save  to  the  skilful  eye. 
Fiery  and  foul  the  small  prognostic  hangs 
Aloft,  or  on  the  promontory's  brow 
Musters  its  force.     A  faint  deceitful  calm, 
A  fluttering  gale,  the  demon  sends  before. 


^i^/  ■v4i 


*  Typhon  and  Ecnephia,  names  of  particular  stormf « 
hi  rricanes,  known  only  between  the  tropics. 

I  Called  by  sailors  the  Ox-eye,  being  in  appearance 
tr^t  no  bigger. 


> 


%. 


/^ 


To  ten>pt  tie  spreading  sail.    Then  down  at  once. 

Precipitant,  descends  a  mingled  mass 

Of  roaring  winds  and  flame  and  rushing  floods. 

In  wild  ajj;azement  fix'd  the  sailor  stands. 

Art  is  too  slow  :  by  rppid  fate  oppress'd, 

His  broad  wing'd  vessel  drinks  the  whelming  tide. 

Hid  in  the  bosom  of  the  black  abyss. 

With  such  mad  seas  the  daring  Gama*  fought, 

For  many  a  day  and  many  s  dreadful  night, 

Incessant,  labouring  round  the  stormy  Cape  ; 

By  bold  ambition  led,  and  bolder  tliirst 

Of  gold.     For  then  from  ancient  gloom  emerged 

The  rising  world  of  trade :  the  Genius,  then. 

Of  naviL'ation,  that,  in  hopeless  sloth, 

Had  slumber'd  on  the  vast  Atlantic  deep 

For  idle  ages,  starting,  heard  at  last 

The  Lusitanian  Prmce  ;t  who,  heaven-inspired, 

To  love  of  useful  glory  rous'd  mankind, 

And  in  unbounded  commerce  mix'd  the  world. 

Increasing  s'ill  the  terrors  of  these  storms. 
His  jaws  horrific  arm'd  with  threefold  fate, 
Hf're  dwells  the  direful  shark.     Lured  by  the  scent 
Of  steaming  crowds,  of  rank  disease  and  death, 
Behold  !  he'rushins  cuts  the  briny  flood, 
Swit't  as  the  gale  can  bear  the  sliip  along; 
And.  from  the  partners  of  that  cruel  trade, 
Which  spoils  unhappy  Guinea  of  her  sons, 
Demands  his  share  of  prey  ;  demands  themselves. 
The  stormy  fares  descend  :  one  death  involves 
Tyrants  and  slaves  ;  when  straishr,  their  mangled  limbt 
Crashing  at  once,  he  dyes  the  purple  seas 
With  gore,  and  riots  in  the  vengeful  meal. 

Whnn  o'er  this  world,  by  equinoctial  rains 
Flooded  immense,  looks  out  the  joyless  sun. 
And  draws  the  copious  stream  ;  from  swampy  fens, 
Where  putrefaction  into  life  ferments, 
And  breathes  destructive  myriads :  or  from  woods. 
Impenetrable  shades,  recesses  foul, 

*  Vasco  de  Gama,  the  first  who  sailed  round  Africa  by 
the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  to  the  East  Indies. 

t  Don  Henry,  third  son  to  .John  the  First,  King  of  Por- 
tn?al.     Hisstnnggeiiius  to  thedi-scovcy  of  newcou 
was  the  chief  s(«urce  of  all  the  laodern  iroprcveme 
navigation. 


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SUM3IER. 

In  vapours  rank  and  blue  corrupt  nn  wrapp'd, 
Whose  gloomy  horrors  yet  no  desperate  foot 
Has  ever  dared  to  pierce  ;  then,  wasteful,  forth 
VVal  <s  the  dire  Power  of  pestilent  disease. 
A  thousand  hideous  fiends  her  course  attend, 
Sick  Nature  blasting,  and  to  heartless  wo, 
And  feeble  desolation,  castin"  down 
The  towerinir  hopes  and  all  the  pride  of  Man 
Such  as,  of  late,  at  CarihaErena  qiiench'd 
The  British  fire.     Vou,  gallant  Vernon,  saw 
The  miserable  scene  ;  you,  pifyirc;.  saw 
To  infant  weakness  sunk  the  wr  rrior's  arm  ; 
Saw  the  d^^ep  rackinsr  pan^r,  the  gliasily  form, 
I'Jie  lip  iiale  quivering,  and  the  beamless  eye 
?7n  more  with  ardour  hrisht:  you  heard  the  groa/ia 
Of  azoni/.ing  ships,  from  shore  to  shore; 
Heard,  niiilitly  plunged  auiid  the  sullen  waves, 
The  frequent  corse  ;  while  on  each  other  fix'd 
In  sad  piesase,  the  blank  assistants  seern'd. 
Silent,  to  ask,  whom  Fate  would  next  demand. 
What  need  [  mention  those  iticlHiiimt  skies. 
Where,  frequent  o'er  the  sickeninir  city.  Plague, 
The  fiercest  child  of  Nemesis  divine, 
Descends  ?     From  Ethiopia's  poison'd  woods, 
From  stifled  Cairo's  filth,  and  fetid  fields 
Willi  locust  armies  putrefying  heap'd, 
This  great  destroyer  sjtrung.     Her  auTiil  rage 
The  brutes  escape  :  Man  is  her  destined  prey, 
Intemperate  Man  !  and  o'er  his  guilty  domes 
?^he  draws  a  close  incumbent  cloud  of  death  ; 
PnintRrrup'ed  by  the  living  winds. 
Forbid  to  blow  a  wholesome  breeze;  and  stain'd 
With  many  a  mixture  by  the  sun.  sufl^used. 
Of  angry  aspect.     Princely  wi>dom,  tlu  n, 
Dejpcts  his  watchful  eye  ;  imd  from  the  hand 
Of  fi-eble  justice,  ineffectual,  drop 
The  sword  and  balance  :  mute  tlie  voice  of  joy 
And  hu-ii'd  the  clamour  of  the  busy  world. 
Empty  the  stn^ets,  with  ui:Couth  vi'rdure  clad  ; 
Into  the  worst  of  deserts  sudden  turn'd 
The  cheerful  hatint  of  men  ;  unless  escaped 
From  the  doom'd  hons",  where  ma'chless  horror  refgns, 
Fhut  un  by  barbarous  fear,  the  smitten  wretch, 
With  frenzy  wild,  breaks  loose  ;  and,  loud  to  Heaven 
gci'>aming,  t.ie  dreadful  p<>licy  ariaigns, 


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BUMMER 

Inhuman  and  unwise.    The  sullen  dooi 
Yet  uninfected,  on  its  cautious  hinge 
Fearins  to  turn,  abhors  society : 
Dependnnts,  friends,  relations,  Love  himself, 
Pavased  by  wo,  forget  the  tender  tie, 
The  sweet' enua^f'inent  of  the  feelins  heart. 
But  vain  their  se!fi<h  care  :  the  circling  sky, 
Tlie  wide  enlivening  air  is  full  of  fate  ; 
And  struck  by  turns,  in  solitary  pangs 
They  fall,  unbles^'d,  untended,  and  unniourn'd. 
Thus  o'er  the  prostrate  city  black  Despair 
Extends  her  raven  winj:  while,  to  complete 
The  scene  of  desolati'in,  stretch'd  around, 
The  ?rim  gnards  stand,  denying  all  retreat, 
And  gis'e  the  flyins  wretcli  a  better  death. 

Mucli  yet  remains  unsung:  the  rage  intense 
Of  brazen  vaulted  skies,  of  iron  fields. 
Where  drought  and  famine  starve  the  blasted  yei*  , 
Fired  by  the  torch  of  noon  to  tenfold  rase, 
Th'  infuriate  hill  that  shoots  the  pillar'd  flame; 
And,  roused  within  the  subterranean  world, 
Th'  espandtig  earthquake,  that  resistless  shakes 
Aspiring  cities  from  ihfir  solid  base. 
And  buries  mountains  in  the  flaming  sulf. 
But  'tis  cnousli ;  return,  my  vagrant  Muse  : 
A  neater  scene  of  horror  calls  thee  home. 

Behold,  slow  settlins  o'er  the  lurid  grove 
rJnu>ual  darkness  broods  :  and  growing  gains 
The  full  possession  of  the  sky,  surcharged 
With  wrathful  vapnir  from  the  secret  beds 
Where  sleep  the  mineral  generations,  drawn. 
Thence  nitre,  sulphur,  and  the  fiery  spume 
Of  fat  bitumen,  steaming  on  the  day. 
With  various  tinctured  trains  of  latent  flame, 
Pollute  the  sky,  and  in  yon  baleful  cloud, 
A  reddening  gloom,  a  magazine  of  fate, 
Ferment,  till,  by  the  touch  ethereal  roused, 
The  dash  of  clouds,  or  irritrting  war 
Of  fighting  winds,  while  all  is  calm  below. 
They  furious  s-pring.     A  bndini  silence  reigns, 
Dread  through  the  dm  expanse  :  sa\e  the  dull  sound 
That  from  the  mourrain,  previous  to  the  storm. 
Rolls  o'er  the  muttering  earth,  disturbs  the  flood, 
And  shakes  the  forest  leaf  without  a  breath. 
Prone,  to  the  lowest  vale,  the  aerial  tribes 


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Descend :  the  tempest-loving  raven  scarce 
Dares  wing  the  dubious  dusk.     Jn  ruet'ul 
The  cattle  stand,  and  on  the  scowling  heavenp 
Cast  a  deploring  eye;  by  man  forsook, 
Who  to  the  crowded  cottace  hies  him  fast. 
Or  seeks  the  shelter  of  the  downward  cave. 

'TLs  listening  fear,  and  dumb  amazement  all: 
When  to  the  startled  eye  the  sudden  glance 
Appears  far  south,  eruptive  tJirough  the  cloud; 
And  following  slower,  in  explosion  vast, 
The  Thunder  raises  his  tremendous  voice. 
At  first,  heard  solemn  o'er  the  verge  of  heaven, 
The  tempest  growls  ;  but  as  it  nearer  comes, 
And  rolls  its  awful  burden  on  the  wind, 
The  Ughtnmgs  flash  a  larger  curve,  and  more 
The  noise  astounds:  till  overhead  a  sheet 
Of  livid  flame  discloses  wide :  then  si.Mts, 
And  opens  wider;  shuts  and  opens  still 
Expansive,  wrapping  ether  in  a  blaze. 
Follows  the  loosen'd  aggravated  roar, 
Enlarging,  deepening,  mingling;  peal  on  peal 
Crush'd  horrible,  convulsing  heaven  and  earth. 

Down  comes  a  deluge  of  sonfirous  hail 
Or  prone  descending  rain.     Wide  rent,  the  clouds 
Pour  a  whole  flood  ;  and  yet,  its  flame  unquench^, 
Tir  unconquerable  lightning  struggles  through, 
Ragged  and  fierce,  or  in  redwhirlina  balls, 
And  fires  the  mountains  with  redoubled  rage. 
Black  from  the  stroke,  above,  the  smouldering  pine 
Stands  a  sad  shalter'd  trunk  ;  and,  streich'd  below, 
A  lifeless  group  tlie  blasted  cattle  lie: 
Here  the  soft  flocks,  with  that  same  harmless  look 
They  wore  alive,  and  ruminating  still 
In  fancy's  eye;  and  there  the  fiowning  bull, 
And  ox"  halt'raised.     Struck  on  the  castled  cliff. 
The  venerable  tower  and  spiry  tane 
Resign  their  aged  pride.    The  gloomy  woods 
Start  at  the  flash,  and  from  their  deep  recess. 
Wide  flaming  out,  their  trembling  inmates  shake. 
Amid  Carnarvon's  mountains  rages  loud 
The  repercussive  roar:  with  nUHlity  crush 
Into  the  flashing  deep,  from  the  rude  rocks 
Of  Penmanmaur  heap'd  hideous  to  tlie  sky, 
Tumble  the  smitten  clifls  ;  and  Snowden's  peak, 
Pissolving,  instant  yields  his  wi  itry  load. 


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Far  seen,  the  heights  of  heathy  Cheviot  blaze, 
And  Thule  bellows  ihrout;li  her  utmost  isles. 

Guilt  hears  appall'd,  with  deep'y  troubled  thought 
And  yet  not  always  on  the  cuilty  head 
Descends  the  lated  flash.     Young  Celadon 
And  his  Amelia  were  a  matchless  pair  ; 
With  equal  virtue  form'd  and  equal  grace, 
The  game,  distinguish'd  by  their  sex  alone  : 
Hers  the  mild  lustre  of  the  blooming  morn, 
And  his  the  radiance  of  the  risen  day. 

They  loved :  but  such  the  guileless  passion  was, 
As  in  the  dawn  of  time  inforra'd  the  heart 
Of  innocence  and  undissembling  truth. 
' Twas  friendship,  heighten'd  by  the  mutual  wish, 
Th'  enchaiuin2  hope,  and  sympathetic  glow, 
I'.eain'd  from  the  mutual  eye.     Devoting  ail 
To  love,  each  was  to  each  a  dearer  self; 
Supremely  happy  in  th'  awaken'd  power 
Of  giving  joy.     Alone,  amid  the  shades, 
giiill  in  harmonious  intercourse  they  lived 
The  rural  day,  and  talk'd  the  flowing  heart, 
Or  sigh'd  and  look'd  uimtterable  things. 

So  pass'd  their  life,  a  clear  unucd  stream, 
Hy  care  unruffled  ;  till,  in  evil  hour, 
Tlie  tempest  caught  them  on  the  tender  walk, 
Heedless  how  far  and  where  its  mazes  stray'd. 
While,  with  each  other  ble~s"d,  creative  love 
Still  bade  eternal  Eden  smile  around. 
Presaaing  instant  fate  her  bosom  heaved 
TTnwoiited  sighs,  and  stealing  oft  a  look 
Of  the  big  gloom,  on  Celadon  her  eye 
Fell  tearful,  welling'  her  disorder'd  cheek. 
In  vain  assuring  love,  and  confidence 
In  Heaven,  repress'd  lur  fear  ;  it  urew,  and  shook 
Her  frame  near  dissolution.     He  perceived 
Th'  unequal  conflict;  and  as  ange's  look 
On  dyins  s  lints,  his  eyes  compassion  shed. 
With  love  illumined  high.     "  Fear  not,"  he  said, 
"  Sweet  innocetice  '.  thou  stranser  to  offence, 
And  inward  storm  !  He,  who  yon  skies  involves 
In  frowns  of  darkness,  ever  smiles  on  thee 
With  kind  regard.     O'er  thee  the  secret  shaft 
That  wastes  at  midnight,  or  th'  undreaded  hour 
Of  noon,  flies  harmless  :  and  that  very  voice, 
Which  thunders  terror  through  the  guilty  lieart, 


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With  tongjes  of  jtraphs  whispers  peace  to  thine. 
'Tls  safety  to  be  near  thee  sure,  and  tlius 
To  clasp  perfection  !"   Fmm  his  void  embrace, 
(Mj'sierious  Heaven  !)  that  moment,  to  the  ground, 
A  blacken'd  corse,  was  struck  the  beauteous  maid. 
But  who  can  painl  the  lover,  as  he  stood. 
Pierced  by  severe  amazement,  hating  life. 
Speechless,  and  fix'd  in  all  the  death  of  wo  I 
So,  faint  resemblance  !  on  the  marble  tomb, 
The  well  dissembled  monnier  stooping  stands, 
For  ever  silent  and  for  ever  sad. 

As  from  the  face  of  heaven  the  shatter'd  clouds 
Tumultuous  rove,  th'  interminable  sky 
Bublimer  swells,  and  o'er  the  world  expands 
A  purer  azure.     Througii  the  lighten'd  air 
A  higher  lustre  and  a  clearer  calm. 
Diffusive,  tremble  :  while,  as  if  in  sien 
Of  dan<ier  pass'd,  a  glitterinji  robe  of  joy. 
Set  off  abundant  by  the  yellow  ray. 
Invests  the  fields;  and  nature  smiles  revived. 

'Tis  beiuty  all,  and  grateful  song  around, 
Join'd  to  the  low  of  kine,  and  nuuierous  bleat 
Of  flocks  thick-nibbling  throueh  the  clover'd  vale 
And  shall  the  hymn  be  marr'd  by  thankless  Blan 
Most  favonr'd  !  who  with  voice  articulate 
Should  lead  the  chorus  of  this  lower  world  ; 
Shall  lie,  so  soim  forgetful  of  the  Hand 
That  hu:-h'd  the  thunder,  and  serenes  the  sky, 
Extinguish'd  fe'  1  that  spark  the  tempest  waked, 
That  sense  nf  powers  exceeding  far  his  own, 
Ere  yet  his  feeble  heart  hts  lost  iis  tears  ? 

Cheer'd  bv  the  milder  beam,  the  sprightly  youth 
Speeds  to  the  well  known  pool,  whose  crystal  d(pltl 
A  sandy  bottom  shows.     A  while  lie  stands 
Gazinjr  th'  inverted  landscape,  half  afi aid 
To  meditate  the  blue  profound  below  : 
Then  ])lunges  Ifeadlongdown  the  circling  flood. 
His  ebon  tresses  and  his  rosy  cheek 
Instant  emerge  ;  and  through  th'  obedient  wave, 
At  each  short  breathing  by  his  lip  repell'd, 
With  arms  and  Ir-irs  according  Avell,  he  makes, 
As  humour  leads,  an  easy  windinjr  p.ith  ; 
While,  from  his  polish'd  side?,  a  dewy  tight 
Effuses  on  th  ;  pleased  spectators  rotmd 

This  is  tlie  purest  exercise  of  health. 


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The  kind  refresher  of  the  summer  heats; 

Nor  when  cold  Winter  keens  the  brightening  flood| 

Would  I  weak  shivering  linger  on  the  brink. 

Thus  life  redoubles,  and  is  oft  preserved, 

By  the  bold  swunmer,  inthf  ;,wift  elapse 

Of  accident  disastrous.    Hence  the  limbs 

Knit  into  force ;  and  the  same  Roman  arm, 

That  rose  victorious  o'er  ihe  conquer'd  earth, 

First  learn'd,  while  lender,  to  subdue  the  wave. 

Even  from  the  body's  purity,  the  mind 

Receives  a  secret  sympathetic  aid. 

Close  in  the  covert  of  a  hazel  copse, 
Wijere  wiiH^ed  into  pleasing  solitudes 
Runs  out  the  rambling  dale,  young  Damon  sat, 
Pi^'usive,  and  pierced  with  love's  delightful  pangs. 
Timre  to  the  stream  that  down  the  distant  rocka 
Hoarse  murmuring  fell,  and  plaintive  breeze  that  J  lay' 
Among  the  bending  willows,  falsely  he 
Of  Musidora's  cruelty  complain'd. 
She  fell  his  flame;  but  deep  within  her  breast 
lii  bashful  coyness,  or  in  maiden  pride, 
Ti)e  soft  return  conceal'd:  save  when  it  stole 
In  sidelong  glances  from  her  downcast  ey^ 
Or  from  her  swelling  soul  in  stifled  sighs. 
Toucli'd  by  the  scene,  no  stranger  to  jfiis  vows, 
He  framed  a  melting  lay,  to  try  her  heart ; 
And,  if  an  infant  passion  strusgled  there. 
To  call  that  passion  forth.    Thrice  happy  swain ' 
A  lucky  chanc^-,  tliat  oft  decides  the  fate 
Of  niisrlity  monarchs,  then  decided  thine. 
For  lo  I  conducted  by  the  laughing  Loves, 
This  cool  retreat  his  Musidora  sought: 
Wann  in  her  cheek  the  sultry  season  glow'd  ; 
And,  robed  m  loose  array,  she  came  to  bathe 
Her  fervent  limbs  in  the  refreshing  stream. 
W'sat  shall  he  do?     In  sweet  confusion  lost, 
And  dubious  flutterings,  he  a  while  remain'd' 
A  pure  i:iL-enuous  elegance  of  soul, 
A  (k'iica*e  refinement,  known  to  few, 
Pe  I'iex'd  his  breast,  and  urzed  him  to  retire: 
But  love  forbade.     Ye  prudes  in  virtue,  say. 
Say,  ye  severest,  what  would  you  have  done? 
Meanrune,  this  fairer  nymph  than  ever  bless'd 
Arcadian  stream,  with  timid  eye  around 
The  banks  surveyng,  stripp'd  her  beauteous  limbs 


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SUMMER. 


To  tasle  tne  lucid  coolness  of  the  flood. 

Ah  then  !  not  Paris  on  the  piny  top 

Of  Ida  panted  stronger,  when  aside 

The  rival  goddesses  the  veil  divine 

Cast  uncontined,  and  save  him  all  their  charms, 

Than,  Damon,  thou ;  as  from  the  snowy  leg, 

And  slender  foot,  th'  inverted  silk  she  drew  ; 

As  the  soft  to\ich  dissolved  the  virgin  zone; 

And,  through  the  parting  robe,  th'  alternate  breast 

With  youth  wild  throbbing,  on  thy  lawless  gaze 

In  full  luxuriance  rose.    But,  desperate  youth, 

HvAv  durst  thou  risk  the  soul-distracting  view  ; 

As  from  her  naked  liinbs,  of  glowing  white, 

Hainiouious  swell'd  by  Nature's  finest  hand, 

In  folds  loose  floating  fell  the  fainter  lawn; 

And  fair-exposed  she  stood,  shrunk  from  herself, 

With  fancy  blushing,  at  the  doubtful  breeze 

Alarm'd,  and  starting  like  the  fearful  fawn  ? 

Then  to  the  flood  she  rush'd ;  the  parted  tlood 

Its  lovely  guest  with  closing  waves  received; 

And  every  beauty  softening,  every  grace 

Flushing  anew,  a  mellow  lustre  shed: 

As  shines  the  lity  through  the  crjstal  mild: 

Or  as  the  rose  amid  the  morning  dew, 

Fresh  from  Aurora's  hand,  more  sweetly  glowss. 

While  thus  she  wanton'd,  now  beneath  tlie  wave 

But  ill  co:icealed  ;  and  now  with  streaming  locks. 

That  half  embraced  her  in  a  humid  veil, 

Rising  again,  the  latent  Damon  drew 

Such  maddening  draughts  of  beauty  to  the  soul, 

As  for  a  while  o'erwhelm'd  his  raptured  thought 

With  luxury  too  daring.    Check'd,  at  last, 

By  love's  respectful  modesty,  he  deem'd 

The  theft  profane,  if  aught  profane  to  love 

Can  e'er  be  deem'd  ;  and,  struggling  from  the  shade, 

With  headlong  hurry  fled  :  but  tirst  thrse  lines, 

Traced  by  his  ready  pencil,  on  the  bank 

With  trembling  haiid  he  threw:—"  Bathe  on,  my  Tail 

Yet  unbeheld  save  by  the  sacred  eye 

Of  faithful  love  :  I  go  to  guard  thy  haunt, 

To  kepp  from  thy  recess  each  vagrant  foot, 

And  each  licentious  eye.'      With  wild  surprise, 

As  if  to  marble  struck,  devoid  of  sense, 

A  stupid  moment  motionless  she  stood 


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Bo  stands  the  stBiue  ''  that  enchants  the  world 
So  bending  tries  to  veil  the  matcliless  boast, 
The  mingled  beauties  of  exulting  Greece. 
RecoverinL',  swift  she  flew  to  find  those  robes 
Which  bhssful  Eden  knew  not;  and,  array'd 
In  careless  haste,  th'  alarming  paper  snatch'd. 
But,  w!ien  her  Damon's  well  known  hand  she  saw, 
Her  terrors  vanished,  and  a  softer  train 
Of  nii.x'd  emotions,  hard  to  be  described, 
Her  sudden  bosom  seized:  shame  void  of  guilt, 
The  ciiarming  blush  of  innocence,  esteem, 
And  admiraiion  of  her  lover's  flame, 
By  modesty  exalted :  even  a  sense 
Of  self  approving  beauty  stole  across 
Her  busy  thought.     At  length,  a  tender  calm 
Htish'd  by  decrees  the  tumult  of  her  soul; 
And  on  the  i-preading  beech,  that  o'er  the  stream 
incmubent  hung,  she  with  the  silvan  pen 
Of  rural  'overs  This  confession  carved, 
Whicli  soon  her  Damon  kiss'd  with  weeping  joy: 
"  Dear  youtli !  sole  judge  of  what  these  verses'mean, 
By  fortune  too  much  favour'd,  but  by  love 
Alas!  not  favour'd  less,  be  still  as  now 
Discreef,  the  time  may  come  you  need  not  fly.*' 
The  sun  has  lost  hi«:  rasre:  his  downward  or'i 
Sh<iot~  notliing  now  but  anin^ating  warmth, 
And  viial  lustre;  that  wiih  \arious  ray, 
Liiriits  up  the  clouds,  those  beauteous  robes  of  leaven 
Incessant  roll'd  into  romantic  shapes, 
The  dream  of  waking  fancy  I  broad  below, 
Cover'd  with  ripening  fruits,  and  swelling  fast 
In.to  the  perf'-ct  year,  the  pregnant  earth  " 
And  all  her  tribes  rejoice.     Now  the  soft  hour 
Of  wa'kins  comes:  for  him  who  lonely  loves 
To  pppk  the  distant  hills,  and  there  converse 
With  Nature  ;  there  to  harmonize  his  heart, 
And  in  pathetic  sons  to  breathe  around 
The  harmony  to  others.     Social  friends. 
Attuned  to  happy  unison  of  soul ; 
T'-  '.y-hosp  exaltinc  eye  a  fairer  world, 
Of  V  ];ich  the  vul<rar  nc  ver  had  a  slimpso. 
r>.  !  'avs  its  charms  :  whose  minds  are  richly  Iraughi 


*  The  Venus  of  JNIedici. 


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i^         "i^  '.tl: 


h'^m^WTth 


^\ 


SUMMER. 


f 


With  philosophic  stores,  superior  U^'.it ; 
And  in  wliose  breast,  en.hiisiastic,  burns 
Virtue,  thestuis  of  interest  deem  romance: 
Now  call'd  abroad  enjoy  the  falling  day; 
Now  Ijo  the  verdant  Portico  of  woods, 
To  Nature's  vast  Lyceum,  forth  they  walk; 
By  that  kind  School  where  no  proud  master  reigas, 
The  full  free  converse  of  the  friendly  heart, 
Improving  and  improved.    Now  from  the  world. 
Sacred  to  sweet  retirement,  lovers  s;eal. 
And  pour  their  souls  in  transport,  which  the  Sire 
Of  love  approving  hears,  and  calls  it  good. 
Which  way,  Amanda,  sliali  we  Lend  our  course? 
The  choice  perplexes.     Wherefore  should  we  choisel 
All  is  the;  same  with  thee.    Say,  shall  we  wind 
Along  the  strenms?  or  walk  the  smiling  mead  1 
Or  court  the  forest  gladts?  or'wander  wild 
Among  the  waving  harvests?  or  ascend. 
While  radiant  Summer  opens  all  its  pride, 
Thy  hill,  delightful  Shene  ?*     Here  let  us  sweep 
The  boundli'ss  landscape   now  the  raptured  eye, 
Exulting  s\\ift,  to  huge  Au2U.-ta  send. 
Now  to  the  Sister  Hillst  that  skirt  her  plain, 
To  lofty  Harrow  now,  and  now  to  where 
Majestic  Windsor  lifts  his  princely  brow. 
In  lovely  contrast  to  this  glorious  view 
Calmly  inaniiificent,  then  will  we  turn 
'  To  where  the  silver  Thames  first  rural  grows. 
Thfre  let  the  feasted  eye  unwf  ari<  d  stray: 
Luxurious,  there,  rovethrough  i\,p  pendent  wood 
That  nodding  hang  o'ei  Harrington's  retreat ; 
Anfl,  stooping  thence  to  Ham's  embowering  walks?, 
Beneath  whose  shades,  in  spotless  peace  retired. 
With  Her  the  pl<  asini'  partner  of  his  heart, 
The  worthy  Queenshnry  yet  laments  his  Cay, 
And  pohsh'd  Cornbury  woos  tiie  willing  Muse, 
Slow  let  us  trace  tise  matchless  Vale  of  Thames ; 
Fair-\\i;idi:;g  up  to  wliere  theMrses  haunt 
In  Twit'iiam's  bowers,  and  for  their  Pope  imj-Uire 
The  healing  God  ;1  to  royal  Hampton's  pile, 


*  The  old  name  of  Richmond,  signifying  in 
hininjr,  or  S[)!endour. 
1  H'ghgate  and  Hampstead. 
t  Id  hi;j  la^t  sickness. 


■fPi 


t^  ■*■ 


C  %^'^, 


s> 


SUMMER. 

To  riermont's  terraced  height,  and  Eshcr's  grovet, 

Where  in  the  sweetest  solitude,  embraced 

l"y  the  soft  windings  of  the  silent  Mole. 

From  courts  and  senates  Pelhain  finds  repose. 

Eiichantinc  vale  :  beyond  whate'er  the  Muse 

Has  of  Achaia  or  Hesperia  sung! 

O  vale  of  bliss  !  O  softly  swelling  hills! 

On  which  the  Power  of  Cultivation  lies, 

And  jnys  to  see  the  wonders  of  his  toil. 

Ht-avens  !  «'hat  a  goodly  prospect  spreads  around, 
Of  hills,  and  dales,  and  woods,  and  lawns,  and  spires, 
And  glittering  towns,  and  gilded  streams,  till  all 
The  stretching  landscape  into  smoke  decays! 
Happy  Britannia  !  where  the  Queen  of  Arts, 
Insjtiring  vigour.  Liberty  abroad 
Walks,  unconlined,  even  to  tiiy  farthest  cot5, 
And  scatters  plenty  with  un>paring  hand. 

Rich  is  thy  soil,  and  merciful  thy  climt ; 
Thy  streams  unfailing  in  the  Summer's  drought; 
U ninatch'd  thy  guardian  oaks  ;  thy  valleys  float 
W^ith  golden  waves :  and  on  thy  mountains  flocks 
Bleat  numberless!  while,  roving  round  their  sides. 
Bellow  the  blackening  herds  in  lusty  droves 
Beneath,  thy  meadows  glow,  and  rise  unquell'd 
Against  the  mower's  scythe.     On  every  hand 
Thy  villas  shine.    Thy  country  teems  with  wealtli; 
And  property  assures  it  to  the  swain, 
Pleased,  and  unwearied,  in  liis  guarded  toil 

Full  are  thy  cities  with  the  sons  of  Art ; 
And  trade  and  joy,  in  every  busy  street. 
Mingling  are  heard  :  e'en  Drudgery  himself. 
As  at  the  car  he  sweat*,  or  dusty  hews 
The  palace  stone,  looks  gay.     Thy  crowded  porta-, 
Where  rising  masts  an  endless  prospect  yield, 
With  labour  burn,  and  echo  to  the  shouts 
Of  hurried  sailor,  as  he  hearty  waves 
His  last  adieu,  and  loosening  every  sheet, 
Resigns  the  spreading  vessel  to  the  wind. 

Bold,  firm,  and  graceful  are  thy  generous  youth, 
By  hardship  sinew'd,  and  by  danger  fired, 
Scattering  the  nations  where  they  go;  and  first 
Or  on  the  listed  plain  or  stormy  seas. 
Mild  are  thy  glories  too.  as  o'er  the  plans 
Of  thriving  peace  thy  thoughtful  sires  preside 
In  genius,  and  substantial  learning,  high ; 


t^ 


Per  every  virtue,  everj'  worth,  renown'd  ; 
Sincere,  plain-hearted,"  hospitable,  kind  ; 
Yet  like  the  mustering  thunder  wlien  provoked, 
The  dread  of  tj'rants,  and  the  sole  resource 
Of  those  that  under  grim  oppressioii  ?roa-n 

Thy  sons  of  Glorj'  many  !  Alfred  thine, 
In  whom  the  splendour  of  heroic  war, 
And  more  heroic  peace,  when  govem'd  well. 
Combine  ;  whose  hallow'd  name  the  Virtue*  saint, 
And  his  own  Muses  love  ;  the  best  of  kings  ! 
With  him  thy  Edwards  and  thy  Henries  shine ! 
Names  dear  to  fame  ;  the  first  who  deep  impress'd 
On  haughty  Gaul  the  terror  of  thy  arms, 
That  awes  her  genius  still.     In  statesmen  thou, 
And  patriots,  feitile.    Thine  a  steady  More, 
Who.  with  a  generous  though  mistaken  zeal, 
Withstood  a  brutal  tyrant's  direful  rage, 
Like  Cato  lirm,  like  Aristides  just. 
Like  rigid  Cincinnatus  nobly  poor, 
A  dauntless  soul  erect,  who  smiled  on  death. 
Frusal  and  wise,  a  Walsincham  is  thine, 
A  Drake  who  made  thee  mistress  of  the  deep, 
And  bore  thy  name  in  thunder  round  Uie  woi'd. 
Then  flamed  thy  spirit  hiah  :  but  who  can  sp'"ik 
The  numerous  worthies  of  the  Maiden  Reign  . 
In  Raleigh  mark  their  every  glory  niix'd  ; 
Raleigh,  the  scourse  of  Spain  !  whose  breast  v»   **  aXL 
The  sase,  the  patriot,  and  the  hero  burn'd. 
Nor  sunk  his  vigour,  when  a  coward  rf  ign 
The  warrior  fetter'd.  and  at  last  resiim'd, 
To  glut  the  vensreance  of  a  vanquish'd  foe. 
Then,  active  still  and  unrestrain'd,  his  mind 
Explored  the  vast  extent  of  ages  past. 
And  with  his  prison  hours  enrich'd  the  world, 
Yet  found  no  times,  in  all  the  long  research, 
Bo  glorious,  or  so  base,  as  those  he  proved, 
In  which  he  conquer'd.  and  in  which  he  bled. 
Nor  can  the  Muse  the  sallanl  Sidney  pass, 
The  plume  of  war !  with  early  laurels  crown'd. 
The  lover's  myrtle,  and  the  poet's  bay. 
A  H  impden  too  is  thine,  illustrious  land, 
Wise,  strenuous,  firm,  of  unsubmittins  soul. 
Who  stenim'd  the  torrent  of  a  downward  age 
To  slavery  prone,  and  bade  thee  rise  asain. 
In  all  thy  native  pomp  of  freedom  bold 


'I 


Li 


Bright,  at  his  call,  thy  Age  of  Men  effiil?ed, 

Of  Men  on  whom  late  time  a  kindling  e)'e 

Shall  turn,  and  tyrants  tremble  while  they  read. 

Bring  every  sweetest  flower,  and  let  me  strew 

The  grave  where  llnssel  lies  ;  whose  temper'd  blood 

With  calmest  cheprfulne.-s  for  thee  resign'd, 

Stai)i'd  the  sad  annals  of  a  giddy  reign  ; 

Aiming  at  lawless  power,  though  nipanly  sunk 

In  loo>e  inglorions  luxury.     With  Iiim 

His  friend,  the  British  Cassius,*  fearless  bled  ; 

Of  high  determined  spirit,  routrhly  brave, 

By  ancient  learning  to  til'  enlightcn'd  love 

Of  ancient  freedom  warm'd.    Fair  thy  renown 

In  awful  sages  and  ii\  noble  bards  ; 

Soon  as  tiie  light  of  dawning  Science  spread 

Her  orient  ray,  and  waked  the  Muses'  song 

Thine  is  a  Bacon  ;  hapless  in  his  choice, 

Unfit  to  stand  tlie  civil  storm  of  state. 

And  tlimngh  the  smooth  barbarity  of  courts, 

With  firm  but  pliant  virtue,  forward  still 

To  urire  his  course  :  him  for  the  studious  shade 

Kind  Nature  fcnin'd,  deep,  comprehensive,  clear, 

Exact,  and  eleiiant :  in  one  rich  soul, 

Plato,  the  Stauyrite,  and  Tnlly  join'd. 

The  gfi.'at  deliverer  he  !  who  tVom  the  gloom 

Of  cloister'd  monks,  and  jargon-teaching  school? .. 

r,ed  forth  the  true  Philosophy,  there  long 

Held  in  the  magic  chain  o^  words  and  forms, 

And  definitions  voiu  :  he  led  her  forth, 

llauoluer  of  Heaven  !  that  slow-ascending  still, 

Investigating  sure  the  chain  of  things. 

With  radiant  finger  points  to  heaven  again. 

The  generous  Ashleyf  thine,  the  friend  of  man  ; 

Who  f:cann'd  his  nature  with  a  brother's  eye, 

His  weakness  prompt  to  shade,  to  raise  his  aim, 

To  touch  the  finer  movements  of  the  mind, 

And  with  the  moral  beauty  charm  the  heart. 

Whv  nei  d  I  name  thy  Boyle,  whose  pious  search 

Amid  the  ilark  recesses  of  his  works. 

The  grea*  Creator  sought  ?  And  wh>  thy  Locke, 

Who  'iiade  the  whole  internal  world  his  own? 

i.et  Xewton,  pure  intelhgence,  whom  God 

*  Algernon  Sidney. 

t  A-  :iony  Ashley  Coof^r,  Ear)  if  Shaflesbuiy. 


%^ 


W^ 


To  mortals  knt,  to  trace  his  boundless  works 

From  laws  sublimelj  simple,  speak  thy  fame 

In  all  philosophy.     For  lofty  sense, 

Creative  fancy,  and  inspection  keen 

T.irough  the  deep  windings  of  the  human  heart, 

Is  not  wild  Shakspeare  thine  and  Nature's  boast? 

Is  not  each  ^reat,  eacli  amiable  Muse 

Of  classic  ages  in  thy  Milton  met  ? 

A  genius  ujiiversal  as  liis  theme  ; 

Astonishing  as  chaos,  as  the  bloom 

Of  blowing  Eden  fair,  as  heaven  sublime  ! 

Nor  shall  my  verse  that  elder  bard  forget, 

The  gentle  Spenser,  Fancy's  pleasing  son  ; 

Wlio,  like  a  copious  river,  pour'd  his  song 

O'er  all  the  mazes  of  enchanted  ground  ; 

Nor  thee,  his  ancient  master,  laughing  sage, 

Chaucer,  whose  native  manners  painting  verse, 

"Well  moralized,  shines  through  the  Gothic  cloud 

Of  time  and  language  o'er  thy  genius  thrown. 

May  my  song  soften,  as  thy  daughters  I, 
Dritannia,  hail  I  for  beauty  is  their  own. 
The  feeling  heart,  simplicity  of  life, 
And  elegance,  and  taste  :  the  faultless  form, 
Shaped  hy  the  hand  of  harmony;  the  cheek, 
Wliere  the  live  crimson,  throii^h  the  native  while 
Soft  shooting,  o'er  the  face  difluses  bloom. 
And  every  nameless  grace  ;  the  parted  lip, 
Like  the  red  rose-bud  moist  with  morning  dew, 
Breathing  delight;  and,  under  flowing  jet, 
Or  sunny  ringlets,  or  of  circh'ng  brown, 
The  neck  slight  shaded,  and  the  swelling  breast: 
The  lool;  resistless,  piercing  to  the  soul, 
And  by  the  soul  inform'd,  when  dress'd  in  love 
She  sits  high-smiling  in  the  conscious  eye. 

Island  of  bliss  I  amid  the  subject  seas. 
Thai  thunder  round  thy  rocky  coasts,  set  up, 
At  once  the  wonder,  terror,  and  delight 
Of  distant  nations  ;  whose  remotest  shores 
Can  K.on  be  shaken  by  the  naval  arm  ; 
Not  to  be  shook  thyself,  but  all  assaults 
BatHing,  as  thy  hoar  cliffs  the  loud  sea-wave. 

O  Thou  !  by  whose  Almighty  nod  the  scale 
Of  empire  rises,  or  alternate  falls, 

end  liirth  the  saving  Virtues  round  the  land, 
In  bright  patrol :  wnite  Peace,  and  social  Love; 


ff' 


SUMMER. 

The  tender-Ionking  Charity,  intent 

Op.  s-entle  deeds,  and  shedding  tears  through  smilefj 

Undaunted  Truth,  and  Dignity  of  mind: 

Cnmafre  composed  and  keen  ;  sound  Temperance, 

ilt'allhl'ul  in  heart  and  look;  clear  Chastity, 

With  blushes  reddening  as  she  moves  along, 

Disorder'd  at  the  deep  vegard  she  draws  ; 

R')ugh  Industry  ;  Activity  untired, 

\Vi!h  copious  lifeinform'd,  and  all  awake: 

\Vi!i.e  in  the  radiant  front,  superior  shines 

Tliat  first  paternal  virtue,  Public  Zeal ; 

Will)  throws  o'er  all  an  equal  wide  survey, 

And,  ever  musin;;  on  the  commonweal, 

Still  labours  glorious  with  some  great  design. 

Low  walks  the  sun,  and  broadens  by  degrees, 
Just  oer  the  verge  of  day.     The  shifting  crouds 
Assembled  gay,  a  richly  gorgeous  train 
in  all  their  pomp  attend  his  setting  throne. 
Mr,  earth,  and  ocean  smile  immense.    And  now, 
.\s  if  his  weary  chariot  sought  the  bowers 
Of  Amphitrite,  and  her  tending  nymphs, 
fSo  Grecian  fable  sungi  he  dips  his  orb; 
Now  half-immersed  ;  and  now  a  golden  curve 
Gives  one  bright  glance,  then  total  disappears. 

For  ever  running  an  enchanted  round. 
Passes  the  day,  deceitful,  vain,  and  void; 
As  fleets  the  virion  o'er  the  formful  brain, 
This  moment  hurrying  wild  th'  impassion'd  soul, 
The  next  in  nothing  lost.     'Tis  so  to  him ! 
The  dreamer  of  this  earth,  an  idle  blank: 
A  sight  of  horror  to  the  cruel  wretch, 
Who  all  day  long  in  sordid  pleasure  roH'd, 
Ilimsi'lf  a  useless  load,  has  squander'd  vile, 
L'pon  his  scoundrel  train,  what  might  have  cheer'd 
A  drooping  family  of  modest  worth. 
P.ut  to  the  generous  still -improving  mind, 
That  iiives  the  hopeless  heart  to  sing  for  joy, 
i>iffnsin2  kind  beneficence  around, 
P.oastless,  as  now  descends  the  silent  dew, 
To  him  the  long  review  of  ovder'd  life 

inward  rapture,  only  to  be  felt. 

("onfe-s'd  from  yonder  slow-e.\tinguish'd  cloi  da, 
All  ether  softening,  sober  Evening  takes 
Her  wontnd  station  in  the  middle  air; 
A  thousand  shadows  at  her  beck     First  this 


Sk 


^-i- 


t.  \> 


SUMMIX. 


Sl/c  sends  on  earth  ;  then  that  of  deejX-r  iye 
Steals  softbehi'i'^  •  «nd  then  a  deeper  sii/1, 
In  circle  followu.5,  ^a.^.c,  gathers  round, 
To  close  the  face  of  things.     A  ireslier  gale 
Begins  to  wave  the  wood,  and  stir  the  stream, 
Sweeping  with  shadowy  gust  the  fields  of  corn, 
While  tlie  quail  clamours  for  his  running  mate. 
Wide  o'er  the  thistly  lawn,  as  swells  the  breeze., 
A  whitening  shower  of  vegetable  down 
Amusive  floats.    The  kind  impartial  care 
Of  Nature  naught  disdains:  tlioughtful  to  feed 
Her  lowest  sons,  and  clothe  the  coming  year, 
From  field  to  tield  thefeather'd  seeds  she  wings. 

His  folded  flock  secure,  the  shepherd  home 
Hies,  merry -hearted  ;  and  by  turns  relieves 
The  ruddy  milkmaid  ijf  her  brimming  pail ; 
The  beauty  whom  perhaps  his  witless  heart, 
Unknowing  what  the  joy-mix'd  anguish  means, 
Sincerely  loves,  by  that  best  language  shown 
Of  cordial  glances  and  obliging  deeds. 
Onward  they  pass,  o'er  many  a  panting  height, 
And  valley  sunk  and  unfrequented  ;  where  " 
At  fall  of  eve  the  fairy  people  throng, 
In  various  game  and  revehy,  to  pass 
The  Slimmer  night,  as  village  stories-tell. 
But  far  about  they  wander  from  the  grave 
Of  him,  whom  his  ungentle  fortune  urged 
Against  his  own  sad  breast  to  Uft  the  hand 
Of  impious  violence.     The  lonely  tower 
Is  also  shunn'd;  whose  mournful  chambers  hold, 
So  night-struck  Fancy  dreams,  the  yelling  ghost. 

Among  the  crooked  lanes,  on  every  hodge, 
The  glow-worm  lights  his  gem;  and  through  the  dark, 
A  moving  radiance  twinkles.    Evening  yields 
The  world  to  Night ;  not  in  her  winter  robe 
Of  massy  Stygian  woof,  but  loose  array'd 
In  mantle  dun.     A  faint  erroneous  ray, 
Glanced  from  th'  imperfect  surfaces  of  things, 
Flings  half  an  image  on  the  straining  eye ; 
While  wavering  woods,  and  villages,  and  streams, 
And  rocks,  and  mouniain  tops,  that  long  retain'd 
Tir  ascending  gleam,  are  all  one  swimming  see  le, 
Uncertain  if  beh.elii.     Sudden  to  heaven 
Thence  weary  vision  turns;  where,  leading  sot. 
The  silent  hours  of  love,  with  purest  ray 


.Ss 


SUMMER. 


Sweet  Venus  shines ;  and  from  her  genial  rise, 

Wijen  daylight  sickens  till  it  springs  afresh, 

Unrival'd  reigns,  the  fairest  lan.p  of  Aight. 

As  ilius  th*  effulgence  tremulous  I  drink 

With  cherish'd  gaze,  the  lambent  lightnings  shoot 

Across  the  sky  ;  or  horizontal  dart 

In  wondrous  shapes:  by  fearful  murmuring  crowds 

Portentous  deem'd.    Amid  the  radiant  orbs, 

That  more  tlian  deck,  that  animate  the  sky. 

The  life-infusing  suns  of  other  worlds  I 

Lo  !  from  the  dread  immensity  of  space, 

Returning,  with  accelerated  course, 

"i'he  rushing  comet  to  the  sun  descends; 

And  as  he  sinks  below  the  shading  earth, 

Wiih  awful  train  projected  o'er  the  heavens. 

The  guilty  nations  tremble.     But,  above 

Those  superstitious  horrors  that  enslave 

The  fond  sequacious  herd,  to  mystic  faith 

And  bUnd  amazement  prone,  th'  enlighten'd  few, 

Whose  godlike  minds  Philosophy  exalts, 

The  glorious  stranger  hail.    They  feel  a  joy 

Divinely  great ;  they  in  their  powers  exult. 

'J'hat  wondrous  force  of  thought,  which  mounting  epi]rr« 

This  dusky  spot,  and  measures  all  the  sky  ; 

While,  from  his  far  excursion  through  the  wilds     . 

or  banen  ether,  faithful  to  his  time, 

'j'li'-y  see  the  blazing  wonder  rise  anew, 

In  seeming  terror  clad,  but  kindly  bent 

To  work  the  w'iil  of  all  sustaining  Love  ; 

F.-^ora  his:  huge  vapoury  train  perhaps  to  shake 

Rpviving  moisture  on  the  numerous  orbs, 

irough  which  his  long  eilip^is  winds  ;  perhaps 
Ti)  iend  new  fuel  to  decli.iing  suns, 
To  liiiht  up  worlds,  and  fe  d  th'  eternal  fire. 

With  thee,  serene  Phiio^-ophy,  with  tLee, 
And  thy  bright  garland,  let  me  crown  my  soitg! 
Etfusive  source  of  evidence  and  truth! 
A  iusire  shedding  o'er  th'  ennobled  mind, 
Sironger  ihan  summir  noon  ;  and  pure  as  that. 
Whose  mild  vibrations  sooth  the  parted  soul, 
Xtw  to  the  dawning  of  celestial  day. 
Hi  ;:c(  tlirough  her  nourish'd  powers,  enlarged  by  thee, 
.She  sjinngs  aloft,  with  elevated  pri<le, 
Above  the  tansling  mass  of  low  desires, 
rhat  bind  tlie  flutte  ing  crowd ;  and,  angel  wing'd. 


^ 
^.^f- 

:^k 


'fe 


tSi 


(I 


The  heights  of  science  and  of  virtue  gains, 
Where  all  is  calm  and  clear ;  with  Nature  round, 
Or  in  the  starry  regions,  or  th'  abyss, 
To  Reason's  and  to  Fsiicy's  eye  liisplay'd  : 
The  First  up-tracing,  from  the  dreary  void, 
The  chain  of  causes  and  eifects  to  Him, 
Tiie  world-producing  Essence,  who  alone 
Possesses  being;  while  the  Last  receives 
Tlie  wtiole  magnificence  of  ht-aven  and  earth, 
And  every  oeauty,  delicaie  or  bold, 
Obvious  or  more  remove,  with  livelier  sense, 
Diffusive  painted  on  the  rapid  iinnd. 

Tutor'd  by  thee,  hence  Poetry  exalts 
Her  voice  to  ases;  and  informs  the  pags 
With  music,  image,  sentiment,  and  thought, 
Never  to  die  !  the  tr^^asure  of  maitkind  : 
Their  highest  lionour  and  their  truest  joy  ! 

Without  thee  what  were  unenlighten'd  Man  1 
A  savage  roaming  through  tlie  woods  and  wilds 
In  queslof  prey ;  and  with  th'  unfashion'd  fur 
Rough  clad  ;  devoid  of  every  finer  art, 
And  elegance  of  life.    Nor  happiness 
Domestic,  mix'd  of  tenderness  and  care. 
Nor  moral  excellence,  nor  social  bliss. 
Nor  guardian  law  were  his:  nor  various  skill 
To  turn  the  furrow  or  to  guide  the  tool 
Mechanic  ;  nor  the  heaven  conducted  prow 
Of  navitratkm  bold,  that  fi-ailess  braves 
The  burning  line  or  dares  the  wintry  pole; 
Mother  severe  of  infinite  deliiihts  I 
Nothinii,  save  rapine,  indolence,  and  guile. 
And  woes  on  woes,  a  stiJI-revolving  train  5 
Whose  horrid  circl«  had  made  human  life 
Than  oonexistence  worse :  but,  taught  by  thee 
Ours  are  the  plans  of  policy  and  peace ; 
To  live  like  brothers,  and  conjunctive  all 
Embellish  life.     While  thus  laborious  crowds 
Ply  the  tough  oar,  Philosojjhy  directs 
The  ruling  helm  ;  or  like  the  liberal  breath 
Of  potentlieaven,  invisible,  the  sail 
Swells  out,  and  bears  th'  inferior  world  along. 

Nor  to  this  evanescent  speck  of  earth 
Poorly  confined,  the  radiant  tracks  on  high 
Are  her  exalted  raisge ;  intcnr  to  gaze 
Creation  through  ;  and,  from  that  full  complex 

'P5%^1    'M  -fl'?  in/ 


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Of  never  ending  wonders,  to  conceive 
(jf  the  Sole  Beino  right,  who  spoke  the  Word, 
y\3i(i  nature  moved  complete.    With  inward  view 
Thence  on  th'  ideal  kingdom  swifi  she  turns 
Tier  eye;  and  instant,  at  her  powerful  glance, 
Th'  obedifint  phantoms  vanish  or  appear; 
Cr<mpo\ind,  divide,  and  into  order  shift, 
Ea'h  to  his  rank,  from  plain  perception  up 
To  the  fair  forms  of  Fancy's  fleetins  train: 
T(j  reason  then,  deducing  truth  from  truth  ; 
And  notion  quite  abstract ;  where  first  begins 
The  world  of  spirits,  action  all,  and  life 
I'nletler'd  and  unmix'd.     But  here  the  cloud 
(So  wills  Eternal  Providence)  sits  deep. 
Enough  for  us  to  know  that  this  dark  state, 
In  wayward  passions  lost  and  vain  pursuits, 
This  Infancy  of  Being,  cannot  prove 
The  iinal  issue  of  the  works  of  God, 
By  boundless  Love  and  pMjrfect  Wisdom  f  jrm'ds 
And  ever  rising  with  the  rising  mind. 


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The  subject  proposed.    Addressed  to  Mr.  Onslow.    A 

prospect  of  the  fields  ready  for  harvest.  Reflections  in 
praise  of  Industry  raised  by  that  view.  Reaping.  A 
tale  relative  to  it.  A  harvest  storm.  Shooting  and 
hunting,  their  barbarity.  A  ludicrous  account  of  fox- 
hunting. A  view  of  an  orchard.  Wall-fruit.  A  vine- 
yard. A  description  of  fogs,  frequent  in  the  latter  part 
of  Autumn :  whence  a  digression,  inquiring  into  the  rise 
of  fountains  and  rivers.  Birds  of  season  considered, 
that  now  shiff  their  habitation.  The  prodigious  num- 
ber of  them  that  cover  the  northern  aud  western  isles  of 
Scotland.  Hence  a  view  of  the  country.  A  prospect 
of  the  discoloured,  fading  woods.  After  a  gentle  dusky 
day,  moonlight.  Autumnal  meteors.  Morning:  to 
which  succeeds  a  calm,  pure,  sunshiny  day,  such  as 
usually  shuts  up  the  season.  The  harvest  being  gathered 
m,  the  country  dissolved  in  joy.  The  whole  concludes 
with  a  panegyric  on  a  philosophical  country  life 


5^ 


# 


Crown'd  with  the  sickle  and  the  wheaten  shesf, 
While  Autumn,  nodding  o'er  the  yellow  plain, 
Come?  jovial  on ;  the  Doric  reed  once  more, 
Well  pleased,  I  tune.     Whate'er  the  wintry  fr-ost 
Nitrous  prepared;  the  various  blnssom'd  Spring 
Put  in  white  promise  forth  ;  and  summer  suns 
Concocted  strong,  rush  boundless  now  to  view, 
Full,  perfect  all,  and  swell  ir.y  glorious  theme. 

Onslow  !  the  Muse,  ambitious  of  thy  name, 
To  grace,  inspire,  and  dignify  her  song. 
Would  from  the  public  voice  thy  gentle  ear 
A  while  engage.    Thy  noble  cares  she  knows, 
The  patriot  virtues  that  distend  thy  thonsfht, 
Spread  on  thy  front,  and  in  thy  bosom  glow  ; 
While  listening  senates  hang  upon  thy  tongue, 
Devohing  throush  the  maze  of  eloquence 
A  roll  of  periods,  sweeter  than  her  song. 
But  she  too  pants  for  public  virtue,  she, 
Though  weak  of  power,  yet  strong  in  ardent  will, 
Whene'er  her  country  ruslies  on  her  heart, 
Assumes  a  bolder  note,  and  fondly  tries 
To  mix  the  patriot's  with  the  poet's  flame. 

When  the  bright  Virgin  gives  the  beauieous  days, 
And  Libra  wei'hs  in  equal  scales  the  year  ; 
From  heaven's  high  cope  the  fierce  effulgence  shook 
Of  parting  Summer,  a  serener  blue. 
With  golden  light  enliven'd,  wide  invests 
The  happy  world.     Attenvper'd  suns  arise. 
Sweet  beam'd,  and  shedding  oft  through  hicid  clouds 
A  pli  asing  calm  ;  while  broad  and  brown,  btlow, 
Extensive  harvests  hang  the  heavy  head. 


J-:. 


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Rich,  silent  deep,  they  stand ;  for  not  a  gale 

Rolls  its  light  bil'.ows  o'er  tlie  bending  plain  : 

A  calm  of  plenty !  till  the  ruffled  air 

Falls  from  its  poise,  and  gives  the  breeze  to  blow. 

rtent  is  the  fleecy  mantle  of  the  sky ; 

The  clouds  fly  different ;  and  the  sudden  sun 

By  fits  etfulg;ent  gilds  th*  illumined  field, 

And  black  by  nvn  the  shadows  sweep  along 

A  ?aily  cheo-ier'd  heart  expanding  view. 

Far  as  the  circling  eye  can  shoot  around, 

Unbounded  tossing  m  a  flood  of  corn. 

These  are  thy  blessimrs,  Industry  I  rough  power! 
VVl'.orn  labour  still  attends  and  sweat  and  pain  ; 
Yet  the  kind  source  of  everj'  gentle  art, 
And  all  the  soft  civility  of  life  : 
Raiser  of  humankind  I  by  Nature  cast, 
\aked  and  helpless,  out  amid  the  woods 
A 'id  wilds,  to  rude  inclement  elements; 
With  various  seeds  of  art  deep  in  the  mind 
Implanted,  and  profusely  pour'd  around 
Materials  infinite  ;  but  idle  all. 
Still  unexerted,  in  th'  unconscious  breast. 
Slept  the  lethi-irsric  powers;  Corruption  still, 
Voracious,  swallow'd  what  the  liberal  hand 
Ofhounty  scattered  o'er  the  savage  year: 
And  still  the  sad  barbarian,  roving,  mix'd 
vVith  bea-ts  of  prey  ;  or  f(jr  his  acorn  meal 
Fought  the  fierce  tusky  boar ;  a  shivering  wretch 
A'jhast  and  comfortless,  when  the  bleak  north. 
With  winter  cliarged,  let  the  mix'd  tempest  fly, 
Hail,  rain,  and  snow,  and  bitter  breathing  frost : 
Then  to  the  shelter  of  the  hut  he  fled  ; 
And  the  wild  season,  sordid,  pined  away. 
For  home  he  had  not ;  heme  is  the  resort 
Of"  love,  of  joy,  of  peace,  and  plenty,  where, 
Pupp'rting  and  supported,  polish'd  friends 
A>td  dear  relations  mingle  into  bliss, 
P'it  this  the  rugged  savage  never  felt, 
F''n  de-nlate  in'crowds;  and  thus  his  days 
IJoII'd  heavy,  dark,  and  unenjoy'd  along: 
A  wnste  of  "time  I  till  Industry  approach'd, 
And  roused  him  from  his  miserable  sloth  ; 
His  faculties  unfolded  ;  pointed  out. 
Where  !nvi~h  Nature  the  directins  hand 
f  .'%_^      Of  /irt  demanded ;  show'd  hrn  hew  to  raiae 


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His  feeble  force  by  the  mechanic  powers, 

To  dig  the  mineral  from  the  vaulted  earth, 

On  what  to  turn  the  piercing  rage  of  fire  ; 

On  what  the  torrent  and  the  gather 'd  blast ; 

Gave  the  tall  ancient  forest  to  his  axe  ; 

Taught  him  to  chip  the  wood  and  hew  the  stone, 

Till  bv  degrees  the  naish'd  fabric  rose  ; 

Tore  from  his  limbs  the  blood  polluted  fur, 

And  wrapp'd  them  in  the  woolly  vestment  warm, 

Or  bright  in  glossy  silk  and  flowing  lawn ; 

With  wholesome  viands  fiU'd  his  table  ;  pour'd 

The  generous  glass  around,  inspired  to  wake 

The  life-refining  soul  of  decent  wit ; 

IVor  stopp'd  at  barren  hare  necessity; 

But  still  advancing  bolder  led  him  on 

To  pomp,  to  plea-ure,  eitgance,  and  grace  : 

And,  breathing  high  ambition  through  his  soul, 

Set  science,  wisdom,  glory  in  his  view, 

A.nd  bade  him  be  the  lord  of  all  below. 

Then  gathering  men  their  natural  powers  combined, 
And  form'd  a  Public ;  to  the  general  good 
Submitting,  aiming,  and  conducting  all. 
For  this  the  Patriot  Council  met,  the  full, 
The  free,  and  fairly  represented  Whole ; 
For  this  they  plann'd  the  holy  guardian  lawa, 
Distiuguish'd  orders,  animated  arts. 
And  with  joint  force  Oppression  chaining,  set 
Imperial  justice  at  the  helm  :  yet  still 
To  them  accountable  :  nor  slavish,  dream'd 
That  toiling  millions  must  resign  their  weal, 
And  all  the  honey  of  their  search,  to  such 
As  for  themselves  alone  themselves  have  raiaed. 

Hence  every  form  of  cultivated  life 
In  order  set,  protected,  and  inspired. 
Into  perfection  wrought.     Uniting  all. 
Society  grew  numerous,  high,  polite, 
And  happy.     Nurse  of  art !  the  city  rear'd 
In  beauteous  pride  her  tower-encircled  head; 
And,  stretching  street  on  street,  by  thousands  drew, 
From  twining  woody  haunts,  or  the  tough  yew 
To  bows  strong  straining,  her  aspiring  sons. 

Thsn  Commerce  brought  into  the  public  walk 
^  The  busy  merchant;  the  big  warehouse  built ; 

Raised  the  strong  crane ;  choked  up  the  loaded  street 
"i  foreign  plenty  ;  and  thy  stream,  O  Thanws, 


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AUTUMN, 


Large,  pentle,  deef,  majestic  kin?  of  floods'. 

Chose  for  his  grand  resort.    On  either  hand, 

Like  a  long  wintry  forest,  groves  of  masts 

Shot  up  thi^ir  spires  ;  the  bellying  sheet  between 

Possess'd  the  breezy  void  :  the  sooty  hulk 

~  oer'd  sluggish  on  ;  the  splendid  barge  along 

Row'd  regular,  to  harmony  ;  around, 

The  boat,  light  skimming,  stretch'd  its  oary  wings 

While  deep  the  various  voice  of  fervent  toil 

From  bank  to  bank  increased  ;  whence,  ribb'd  with  oak 

To  bear  the  British  thunder,  black  and  bold, 

The  roarUig  vessel  rush'd  into  th''  nnia. 

Then  *.oo  the  pillar'd  dome,  magnitic,  heaved 
Its  ampk*  roof;  and  Luxury  within 
Pnur'd  out  her  giitterin?  stores  ;  the  canvass  smooth. 
With  glowing  life  protuberant,  to  the  view 
Embodipd  rose  ;  the  statue  seeni'd  to  breathe, 
And  soften  into  flesh,  beneath  the  touch 
Of  forming  Art,  isnagination  flush'd. 

All  is  the  gift  of  Industry  ;  whate'er 
Exalts,  embellishes,  and  renders  life 
Deligiitful.    Pensive  Winter  cheer'd  by  him 
Sits  at  the  soc.al  fire,  and  happy  hears 
Th'  excluded  tempest  idly  rave  along  ; 
His  haiden'd  lingers  deck  the  gaudy  Spring; 
Without  him  Summer  were  an  arid  waste  ; 
Nor  to  th'  Autumnal  months  could  thus  transmit 
Thise  full,  mature,  immeasurable  stores 
That,  waving  round,  recall  my  wanrirring  song. 

Soon  as  the  uiorning  trembles  o'er  ifie  sky. 
And,  unp^rceived,  unfolds  the  spreading  day  ; 
Before  the  ripen'd  field  the  reapers  stand, 
In  fair  array  ;  each  by  the  la<s  he  loves, 
To  br-ar  the  rougher  "part,  and  mitigate 
P.y  nameless  gentl«  offices  her  to 
At  once  thi?y  stoop  and  swell  the  lusty  sheaves  ; 
While  through  their  cheerful  band  the  rural  talk. 
The  rural  scandal,  and  the  rural  jest 
Fly  harmless,  to  deceive  the  tedious  time. 
And  s'eal  unfelt  the  sultry  hours  away. 
Behind  the  ma^^ter  walks,"  builds  up  the  shocks  t 
A -id,  conscious,  alancing  oft  on  every  side 
H\<  sat'-d  eye,  feels  his  heart  I-eave  with  joy. 
The  gleaners  spread  around,  nnd  here  and  there, 
Spike  after  spike,  thrir  scanty  harvest  pick. 


-,ft 


Be  not  too  narrow,  husbandmen  !  but  fling 
From  the  full  sheaf,  with  charitable  stealth, 
The  liberal  handful.    Think,  oh  grateful  think  I 
How  good  the  God  of  harvest  is  to  you  ; 
Who  pours  abundance  o'er  your  flowing  fields  ; 
While  these  unhappy  partners  of  your  kind 
Wide  hover  rouud  you,  like  the  fowls  of  heaven, 
And  ask  their  humble  dole.     The  various  turns 
Of  fortune  ponder ;  that  your  sons  may  want 
What  now,  with  hard  reluctance,  faint,  ye  give. 

The  love'y  young  Lavinia  once  had  friends ; 
And  Fortune  smiled,  deceitful,  on  her  birth  ; 
For,  in  her  helpless  years  deprived  of  all, 
Of  every  stay,  save  Innocence  and  Heaven, 
She,  with  her  widow'd  mother,  feebl*',  old. 
And  poor,  lived  in  a  cottage,  far  retired 
Anions  the  windings  of  a  woody  vale  ; 
By  solitude  and  deep  surrounding  shades, 
But  more  by  bashful  modesty,  conceal'd. 
Together  thus  they  shunn'd  the  cruel  scorn 
Which  virtue,  sunk  to  pnveriy,  would  meet 
From  fiddy  passion  and  lov\'-minded  pride  : 
Almost  on  Nature's  common  bounty  fed  ; 
Like  the  gay  birds  that  sung  them  to  repose, 
Content,  and  careless  of  to-morrow's  fare. 
Her  form  was  fresher  than  the  niorning  rose. 
When  the  dew  wets  its  leaves  ;  unstain'd  and  puT« 
As  is  the  lily,  or  the  mountain  snow. 
Tbe  modest  virtues  minglt^d  in  her  eyes, 
Still  on  the  eround  dejeettd.  darting  all 
Their  humid  beams  into  the  bloonjing  flowers : 
Or  when  the  mournful  tale  her  mother  told, 
Of  what  her  faithless  fortune  promised  once, 
Thrill'd  in  her  thought,  they,  like  the  dewy  star 
Ofevening,  shone  in  tears.    A  native  grace 
S-it  fair-proportion'd  on  her  polish'd  limbs, 
Veil'd  in  a  simple  robe,  their  best  attire, 
Beyond  the  pomp  of  dress  ;  for  loveliness 
Needs  not  the  foreign  aid  of  ornament. 
But  is  when  unadorn'd  adorn'd  the  most. 
Thoughtless  of  beauty,  she  was  Beauty's  self 
Recluse  amid  theclose-enibdwering  woods 
As  in  the  hollow  breast  of  Apennine, 
Beneath  the  shelter  of  eucircling  hills, 
X  myrtle  rises  fai  from  hunian  eye 


.c~^^% 


?r© 


V 


AUTtMN. 

And  breathes  its  balmy  fraerance  o  er  the  wild } 
So  flourish'd  blooming,  and  unseen  by  all, 
The  sweet  Lavinia  ;  till,  at  length,  coinpell'd 
By  strong  Necessity's  supreme  command, 
vVith  smiling  patience  in  her  looks,  she  went 
To  glean  Palemon's  tields.    The  pride  of  swailM 
Palemon  was,  the  geneious,  and  the  rich ; 
Who  led  the  rural  life  in  all  its  joy 
And  elegance,  such  as  Arcadian  scng 
Transmits  from  ancient  uncorrupted  times ; 
When  tyrant  custom  had  not  shackled  man, 
But  free  to  follow  Nature  was  the  mode. 
He  then,  his  fancy  with  autumnal  scenes 
Amusina,  chanced  beside  his  reaper  train 
To  walk,  ^^•hen  poor  Lavinia  drew  his  eye ; 
Unconscious  of  her  power,  and  turning  quick 
With  unaffected  blushes  from  his  gaze  : 
He  saw  her  clwrming,  but  he  saw  not  half 
The  charms,  her  downcast  modesty  conceal'd. 
That  very  moment  love  and  chaste  desire 
Sprung  in  his  bosom,  to  himself  unknown  ; 
For  still  the  world  prevail'd,  and  its  dread  laugh. 
Which  scarce  the  firm  philosopher  can  scorn, 
Should  his  heart  own  a  gleaner  in  the  field  ; 
And  thus  in  secret  to  his  soul  lie  sigh'd  : — 

"  Wliat  pity  !  that  so  delicate  i  form. 
By  beauty  kindled,  where  enlivening  sense 
And  more  than  vulgar  goodness  seem  to  dwell, 
Should  be  devoted  to  the  rude  embrace 
Of  some  indecent  clown  !  she  looks,  methinks, 
Of  old  Acasto's  line  ;  and  to  my  mind 
Recalls  that  patron  of  my  happy  life. 
From  whom  my  liberal  fortune  took  its  rise ; 
Now  to  the  dust  none  down  ;  his  houses,  land?. 
And  once  fair-spreadina  family  dissolved. 
'Tis  said,  that  in  some  lone  obscure  retreat. 
Urged  by  remembrance  sad  and  decent  pride. 
Far  from  those  scenes  which  knew  their  better  days, 
His  aaed  widow  and  his  daughter  live, 
Whom  yet  my  fruitless  search  cold  never  find. 
Romantic  wish  !  would  this  the  daughJer  were  I" 

When,  strict  inquiring,  from  herself  he  found 
She  was  tlie  same,  the  daughter  of  liis  friend, 
Of  bountiful  Acasto  ;  who  can  speak 
The  mingled  passions  that  surprised  liis  heart 


m 


i3 


AUTUMN. 

And  through  his  nerves  in  shivering  transport  ran  ? 
Then  blazed  his  smother'd  flame,  a\  ow'd,  and  bold ; 
And  as  lie  view'd  her,  ardent,  o'er  and  o'er, 
Love,  gratitude,  and  pity  wept  at  once. 
Confused,  and  irishten'd  at  his  sudden  tears, 
Her  rising  beauties  flush'd  a  higJier  bloom. 
As  thus  Pdlemon,  passionate  and  just, 
Pour'd  out  the  pious  rapture  of  his  soul  : 

"  And  art  thou  then  Acasto's  dear  remains  1 
She,  whom  my  restless  graiitude  has  sought 
So  long  in  v^in  7  O  heavens  !  the  very  same, 
The  softcu'd  image  of  my  noble  friend, 
Alive  his  every  look,  his  every  feature, 
More  elegantly  touch'd.    Sweeter  tiiau  Spring! 
Thou  sole  surviving  blossom  from  the  root 
That  nourish'd  up  my  fortune  !  say,  ah  where, 
In  what  sequester'd  desert,  iiast  thou  drawn 
The  kindest  aspect  of  delighted  heaven  ? 
Into  such  beauty  spread,  and-blown  so  fair; 
Though  Poverty's  cold  wind  and  crushing  rain 
Beat  keen  and  heavy  on  thy  tender  years  ? 
O  let  me  now,  into  a  richer  soil. 
Transplant  thee  safe  I  where  vernal  suns  and  showcs 
Diifuse  their  warmest,  largest  intluence  ; 
And  of  my  garden  be  the  pride  and  joy  ! 
Ill  it  befits  thee,  oh  it  ill  befits 
Acasto's  daughter,  his,  whose  open  stores, 
Though  vast,  were  little  to  his  ampler  heart, 
The  father  of  a  country,  thus  to  pick 
The  very  refuse  of  those  harvest  fields 
Which  from  his  bounteous  friendship  I  enjoy. 
Then  throw  that  shameful  pittance  from  thy  hand, 
But  ill  applied  to  such  a  rut:ged  task  ; 
The  fields,  the  master,  all,  my  fair,  are  thiu'?; 
If  to  the  various  blessings  which  thy  house 
Has  on  me  lavish'  ?,  thou  wilt  add  that  bliss, 
That  dearest  bliss,  the  power  of  ble.-si.ng  ihee!" 

Here  ceased  the  youth  :  yet  still  Ms  speaking  eye 
Express'd  the  sacred  triumph  of  his  soul. 
With  conscious  virtue,  gratitude,  and  lov^e 
Above  the  vulvar  joy  divinely  raised. 
Nor  waited  he  veply.    Won  by  the  cliami 
^Ofgofidness  irresistible,  and  all 
^\  In  sweet  ( isonler  kist,  ^he  lilush'd  consent. 
-      ^  The  new3  immediate  to  her  mot'.er  brought, 


I 


AUTCMN, 

While,  pierced  wit!)  anxious  thought,  she  pln'd  away 
The  lonely  moments  fur  Lavinia's  fate; 
Amazed,  and  s-carce  believing  what  she  heard, 
J(iy  !?ei/,('d  her  wiilier'd  veins,  and  one  bright  gleam 
(n' sotting  life  shone  on  lier  evening  hours: 
NOr  less  enraptured  tiiau  the  happy  pair; 
Who  flourish'd  long  in  tender  bliss,  and  rear'd 
A  uiimerous  otTspring,  lovely  like  themselves, 
And  iiood,  the  grace  of  all  the  country  round. 

Defeating  oft  the  labours  of  the  year, 
Tiie  sultry  south  collects  a  potent  blast. 
At  iir^t  the  groves  are  scarcely  seen  to  stir 
Tli'  ir  trembling  lops  ;  and  a  still  murmur  runs 
Along  the  soft  inclining  fields  of  corn. 
But  as  th'  aerial  tempest  fuller  swells, 
And  in  one  mighty  stream,  invisible. 
Immense,  the  whole  excited  atmosphere 
Inipettious  rushes  o'er  the  sounding  world  ; 
Sirain'd  to  the  root,  the  stooping  forest  pours 
A  rustling  shower  of  yet  untimely  leaves. 
High-beat,  the  circling  mountains  eddy  in, 
From  the  bare  wild,  the  dissipated  storm. 
And  send  it  in  a  torrent  down  the  vale. 
Exposed  and  naked  to  its  utmost  rase, 
Thiouffh  all  the  sea  of  harvest  rolling  round, 
The  billowy  jilain  floats  wide  ;  nor  can  evade, 
Though  pliant  to  the  blast,  its  seizing  force  ; 
Or  whirl" d  in  air,  or  into  vacant  chaff 
Shook  waste.    And  sometimes  too  a  burst  of  rain, 
Swept  from  the  black  horizon,  broad,  descends 
In  one  continuous  flood.     Still  overhead 
The  mingling  tempest  weaves  its  gloom,  and  still 
The  deluge  deepens:  ti  1  the  fields  around 
Lie  sunk  and  fiatted  in  the  sordid  wave. 
Sudden  the  ditches  swell ;  the  meadows  swim. 
Ked,  from  the  hills,  innumerable  streams 
Tumultuous  roar ;  and  high  above  i!s  banks 
The  river  lift;  before  whose  rushing  tide. 
Herds,  flocks,  and  harvests,  cottages,  and  swains 
Roll  min-jled  down;  all  that  the  winds  had  spared 
In  one  wild  moment  ruin'd  ;  the  bis  hopes 
And  weM  earn'd  treasures  of  the  painl'ul  year. 

Fled  to  some  eminence,  the  husbandman 
Helnless  beholt's  the  miserable  wreck 
along  ;  his  drowning  ox  ai  once 


\^^ 


f 


^ 


4 


Descending,  wi,h  his  labours  scatter'd  round, 

He  sees  ;  and  instant  o'er  his  shivering  thought 

Conies  Winter  unprovided,  and  a  train 

Of  claimant  clnldren  dear.     Ye  niasteis,  then, 

Be  mindful  of  the  rough  laborious  hand 

That  sinks  you  soft,  in  elejrance  and  ease  ; 

Be  mindfulof  thosie  limbs  in  russet  clad 

Whose  toil  to  yours  is  warmth  and  graceful  pride' 

And,  oh  !  be  mindful  of  that  spaiing  board 

Wliich  covers  yours  with  luxury  profuse, 

Makes  your  glass  sparkle,  and  your  sense  rejoice. 

Nor  cruelly  demand  what  the  deep  rains. 

And  all-involving  winds  have  swept  away. 

Here  the  rude  clamour  of  the  sportsman's  joy 
The  gun  fast  thundering,  and  the  winded  horn, 
Would  tempt  the  Mu^e  to  sing  the  rural  game : 
How  in  his  mid  career  the  fpaniel  struck. 
Stiff',  by  the  tainted  gale,  with  oppn  nose, 
Outstretch'd,  and  finely  sensible,  draws  full, 
Fearful  and  cautitnis,  on  the  latent  prey  ; 
As  in  the  sun  the  circling  covey  bask 
Their  varied  pfumes,  and,  watchful  every  way 
Through  the  rough  stubble  turn  the  secret  eye. 
Caught  in  the  meshy  snare,  in  vain  they  beat 
Their  idle  wings,  entangled  more  and  more  ; 
Nor  on  the  surges  of  tiie  boiiridless  air. 
Though  borne  triumphant,  are  tliey  safe  ;  the  gun, 
Glanced  just  and  sudden  from  the  fowler's  eye, 
O'ertakes  their  sounding  pinions  :  and  again 
Immediate,  biincs  them  from  the  tov/erjng  wing 
D*>ad  to  iho  ground  ;  or  drives  them  wide  dispersed 
Woundfd,  and  wheeling  various,  down  the  wind. 

Thesr  are  not  subjects  for  the  peaceful  Muse 
Nor  wi.l  she  slain  with  such  \,ct  spotless  song' 
Then  'nost  delighted,  when  me  social  sees 
The  'vnole  mix^d  animal  cr-  aiion  round 
Alive  and  happy.     'Tis  not  joy  to  her, 
Tliis  falsely  cheerful  ba; batons  game  of  death, 
This  rage  of  pleasure,  which  the  restless  youth 
Awakes,  impatient,  with  the  gleaming  morn  : 
When  beasts  of  prey  reiipe,  that  all  night  long 
Urged  by  nerer^sity,  had  lariired  the  dark, 
As  if  their  conscious  rava2e  shunn'd  the  liglit 
Ashamed.     Isot  so  the  stradv  tyrant  Man, 
Who  with  the  Ihoughtliss  influenc3  of  powei 


# 


f 


) 


M 


AUTUMN. 

Inflamed,  beyond  the  most  infuriate  wrath 

Of  the  worst  monster  that  e'er  roam'd  the  wasf.C, 

For  sport  alone  pursues  the  cruel  chase, 

Amid  tiie  beaminss  of  the  gentle  days. 

(  pbraid,  ye  ravening  tribes,  our  wanton  rage, 

For  iiunger  kindles  you,  and  lawless  want; 

But  lavish  fed,  in  Nature's  bounty  roli'd, 

To  joy  at  anguish,  and  delight  in  blood, 

Is  'vhat  your  horrid  bosoms  never  knew. 

Poor  is  the  triumph  o'er  the  timid  hare ! 
Scared  f'-om  tlie  corn,  and  now  to  some  lone  seat 
Retired  :  the  rushy  fen ;  the  ragged  furze, 
Stretch'd  o'er  the  stony  lieath  ;  the  stubble  chapp*4 
The  thistly  lawn  ,  the  thick  entangled  broom* 
Of  the  same  friendly  hue,  the  wither'd  fern  ; 
The  fallow  ground  laid  open  to  the  sun, 
Concoctive ;  and  the  nodding  sandy  bank, 
Hung  o'er  the  mazes  of  the  mountain  brook. 
Vain  is  her  best  precaution  ;  though  she  sits 
Conceal'd,  with  folded  ears  ;  unsleeping  eyes, 
By  Nature  raised  to  take  th'  horizon  in ; 
And  head  coucli'd  close  betwLxt  her  hairy  feet. 
In  act  to  spring  away.    The  scented  dew 
Betrays  her  early  Iab_vr'"*h  ;  and  deep 
In  scarter'd  sullen  openings,  far  behind, 
With  every  breeze  she  hears  the  coming  storm, 
Rut  nearer,  and  more  frequent,  as  it  loads 
The  sighing  gale,  she  springs  amazed,  and  all 
'Pile  savage  soul  of  game  is  up  at  once: 
The  pack  full  opening,  various ;  the  shrill  horn 
Eesouriding  from  the  hills;  the  neighing  steed, 
Wild  for  the  chase  :  and  the  loud  hunter's  shout 
O'er  a  weak,  harmless,  flying  creature,  all 
Mix'd  in  mad  tumult  and  discordant  joy. 

The  stag  too,  singled  t'rom  the  herd,  where  bng 
fie  ranged  the  branchin2  monarch  of  the  shades, 
Before  the  tempest  drives.    At  first,  in  speed 
Ife  spriohtly  puts  his  faith  ;  and,  roused  by  fear, 
Gives  all  his  swift  aerial  soul  to  flight; 
Against  the  breeze  he  darts,  that  way  the  more 
To  leave  the  lessening  murderous  cry  behind: 
Decpption  short !  thouirh  fleeter  than  the  winds 
Blown  o'er  the  keen  air'd  mountain  by  the  north. 
He  tiursts  the  thickets,  glances  through  the  gladCB^ 
And  plunges  deep  into  the  wildest  wood  ; 


<9S\ 


i^:^ 


^l^ 


!/ 


Pi 


.Y 


y. 


AUTUMN. 


If  slow,  yet  sure,  adhesive  to  the  track 

Hot-steaming,  up  behind  him  come  a^ain 

Th'  inhuman  rout,  and  from  tlie  shady  depth 

Expel  him,  circling  through  his  every  shift. 

He  sweeps  the  forest  oft ;  and  sobbing  sees 

The  glades,  mild  opening  to  the  goldt'u  day  ; 

Where,  in  kind  contest,  with  his  butting  fiiends 

He  wont  to  struggle,  or  his  loves  enjoy. 

Oft  in  the  full  descending  flood  he  tries 

To  lose  the  scent,  and  lave  his  burning  sides; 

Oft  seeks  the  herd  ;  the  watchful  herd,  alarm'd. 

With  selfish  care  avoid  a  brother's  wo. 

What  shall  he  do  1     His  once  so  vivid  nerves, 

So  full  of  buoyant  spirit,  now  no  more 

Insjiirc  the  course ;  but  fainting  breathless  toil, 

Sick,  seizes  on  his  heart :  lie  stands  at  bay  ; 

And  puts  his  last  weak  refuge  in  despair. 

The  big  round  tears  run  down  his  dappled  face; 

He  groans  in  anguish :  while  the  growling  pack, 

Blood  happy,  hang  at  his  fair  jutting  chest, 

And  mark  Ids  beauteous  chequer'd  sides  with  gor« 

Of  this  enough.    But  if  the  silvan  youth, 
Whose  fervent  blood  boils  into  violence. 
Must  have  the  chase  ;  behold,  despising  flight, 
The  roused  up  lion  resolute  and  slow. 
Advancing  full  on  the  protended  spear 
And  coward  band  that  circling  wheel  aloof. 
Slunk  from  the  cavern  and  the  troubled  wood. 
See  the  urim  wolf ;  on  him  his  shaggy  foe 
Vindictive  fix,  and  let  the  ruffian  die: 
Or,  growling  horrid,  as  the  brindled  boar 
Grins  fell  destruction,  to  the  monster's  heart 
Let  the  dart  litrhten  from  the  nervous  arm. 

These  Britain  knows  not;  give,  ye  Britons,  then 
Your  sportive  fury,  pitiless,  to  pour 
Loose  on  the  nightly  robber  of  the  fold  ; 
Him,  from  his  craggy  winding  haunts  unearth'd, 
Let  all  the  thunder  of  the  chase  pursue. 
Throw  the  broad  ditch  behind  you  ;  o'er  the  hedge 
Hii'h  bound,  resistless;  nor  the  deep  morass 
Refuse,  but  through  the  shaking  wilderness 
Pick  your  nice  way ;  into  the  perilous  flood 
Bear  fearless,  of  the  raging  instinct  full; 
And  as  you  ride  the  torrent,  to  the  banks 
Your  uiumph  sound  sonorous,  run!  lug  round, 


•f  ^s^r^ 


AUTUMN 


From  rock  to  rock,  jr:  circling  echoes  loss'd  ; 
Then  scale  the  mountains  to  their  woody  tops; 
Rush  down  the  dan;zerous  steep ;  and  o'er  the  Iawa< 
In  fancy  swallowiriK  up  the  spare  beiween, 
Pour  all  j-our  speed  into  the  rapid  ^anie. 
Forliap[>y  he!  who  tops  the  wheeling  chase; 
Has  every  maze  evolved,  and  every  guile 
Diaclosed  ,  wlio  knows  the  merits  of  the  pack  : 
Who  saw  the  villain  seized,  and  dying  hard 
Without  complaint,  though  by  a  hundred  mouth* 
Relcntlt-ss  torn  :  O  glorious  he,  beyond 
His  daring  peers  !  when  the  retreating  horn 
Calls  them  to  ghostly  halls  of  gray  renown. 
With  woodland  lionours  graced  ;  the  fox's  fur, 
Dependiiig  decent  from  the  roof;  and  spread 
Round  tlie  drear  walls,  wiih  aniic  figures  fiercCi 
The  slag's  large  front:  he  then  is  loudest  heard, 
When  the  niglit  staggers  with  severer  toils, 
Wi'h  feats  Thessalian  Centaurs  never  knew, 
And  their  repeated  wonders  shake  the  dome. 

But  first  the  I'uel'd  chunney  blazes  wide; 
The  tankards  foam  ;  and  the  strong  table  groans 
Beneath  the  sniokins  sirloin,  stretcli'd  immense 
From  side  to  side  ;  in  which,  with  desperate  knife, 
They  deep  incision  make,  and  talk  the  while 
Of  England's  slory,  ne'er  to  be  defaced 
While  hence  they  borrow  vigour:  or  amain 
Into  the  pasty  plunged,  at  intervals, 
If  stomach  keen  car.  intervals  allow, 
Relatinii  all  the  glories  of  the  chase. 
Then  sated  Hunger  bids  his  brother  Thirst 
Produce  the  migliiy  bowl ;  the  mighty  bowl, 
Swell'd  hisli  wiih  fiery  juice,  steams  liberal  rotind 
A  potent  gale,  delicious  as  the  breath 
Of  Maia  to  the  lovesick  shepherdess. 
On  violets  dilTused,  wliile  soft  she  hears 
Her  panting  shepherd  stealing  to  her  arms. 
rVor  wan^ins  is  ihe  brown  October,  drawn, 
Mature  and  perfect,  from  his  dark  retreat 
Of  thirtv  vears ;  and  now  his  honest  from 


•     fi 


Tf) 


r 


:A 


In  thunder  leaping  from  the  box,  awake 

The  soundius  garmnoa:  while  romp-loving  miss 

Is  haul'd  about  in  gallantry  robust. 

At  last  these  puling  idlenesses  laid 
Aside,  frequent  and  full,  the  dry  divan 
Close  in  firm  circle;  and  set,  aident,  in 
For  serious  drinking.    Nor  evasion  sly, 
Nor  sober  shift,  is  to  the  puking  wretch 
Indulged  apart ;  but  earnest  brimming  bowls 
Lavt  e.ery  soul,  the  table  floating  round, 
And  pavement,  faithless  to  the  fuddled  foot. 
Thus  as  they  swim  in  mutual  swill,  the  talk, 
Vociferous  at  once  from  twenty  tongues, 
Reels  fast  from  theme  to  theme  ;  from  horses,  hDunda, 
To  church  or  mistress,  politics  or  ghost. 
In  endless  n)azes,  intricate,  perplex'd. 
Meantime,  with  sudden  interruption,  loud, 
Th'  im[)atient  catch  bursts  from  the  joyous  heart; 
That  moment  touch'd  is  every  kindred  soul; 
And,  opening  in  a  full  mouth'd  cry  of  joy. 
The  laugh,  the  slap,  the  jocund  ciirse  ho  round ; 
While,  from  their  slumbers  shook,  the  kennel'd  hounds 
Mix  in  the  music  of  the  day  again. 
As  when  the  tempest,  that  has  vex'd  the  deep 
The  dark  ni^ht  long,  with  fainter  murmurs  fails; 
So  gradual  sinks  their  mirth.    Their  feeble  tongues, 
Unable  to  take  up  the  cumbrous  word. 
Lie  quite  dissolved.     Before  their  maudlin  eyes. 
Seen  dim  and  blue,  the  double  tapers  dance. 
Like  the  sun  wading  through  the  misty  sky. 
Then,  sliding  soft,  they  drop.     Confused  above, 
Glasses  and  bottles,  pipes  and  gazetteers. 
As  if  the  table  e'en  itself  was  diunk. 
Lie  a  wet  broken  scene  ;  and  wide,  below, 
Is  heap'd  the  social  slaughter:  where  astride 
The  lubber  Power  in  filthy  triumph  sits, 
Slumbiaous,  inclining  tjtill  .'rom  side  to  side. 
And  steeps  them  drench'd  in  potent  sleep  till  rooTt- 
Perhaps  some  doctor,  of  tremendous  paunch, 
Awful  and  deep,  a  black  abyss  of  drink. 
Outlives  them  all :  and  from  his  buried  flock 
Retirins,  full  of  rumination  .^ad, 
Lnments  the  weakness  of  these  latter  times. 

But  if  the  roucher  sex  by  this  fierce  spfurt 
Is  hurried  wild,  let  not  such  horrid  joy 


if^ 


^ 


&^ 


100 


AUTUMN, 


E'er  stain  the  bosom  ?f  the  British  Fair. 

Far  be  the  spirit  of  tl.e  chase  from  iheinl 

Uncomely  courage,  unbeseeming  siiill; 

To  spring  the  fence,  ro  rein  the  prancing  steed; 

The  cap,  the  whip,  the  raa^culine  attire  ; 

In  which  they  roughen  to  the  sense,  and  all 

Tlie  winaing'sofuifiss  of  their  sex  is  lost. 

In  them  'tis  graceful  to  dissolve  at  wo ; 

With  every  morion,  every  word,  to  wave 

Gluick  o'er  the  kindling  cheek  the  ready  blush; 

And  from  the  smallest  violence  to  shrink 

Unequal,  then  the  loveliest  in  their  fears; 

And  by  \n<  silent  adulation,  soft, 

To  their  protection  more  engaging  Man. 

O  may  their  eyes  no  miserable  sight, 

Save  weeping  lovers,  see!  a  nobler  game, 

Through  love's  enchanting  wiles  pursued,  yet  flei, 

In  chase  ambiguous.     May  their  tender  limbs 

Float  in  the  loose  simplicity  of  dress  ! 

And,  fashion' d  all  to  harmony,  alone 

Know  they  to  seize  the  captivated  soul, 

In  rapture  warbled  fiora  love-breathing  lips; 

To  teach  the  lute  to  languish  ;  with  smooth  step. 

Disclosing  motion  in  its  everv charm, 

To  swim  along,  and  swell  tiie  mazy  dance, 

To  train  the  foliage  o'er  the  snowy  lawn ; 

To  guide  the  pencil,  turn  the  tuneful  page ; 

To  lend  new  flavour  to  the  fruitful  year, 

And  heisihten  Nature's  dainties  :  in  their  race 

To  rear  their  graces  into  second  life; 

To  give  society  its  highest  taste: 

Well  order'd  home  man's  best  delight  to  make  ; 

And  by  submissive  wisdom,  modesi  skill, 

With  every  gentle  care-eludins  art. 

To  raise  the  virtues,  animate  the  bliss, 

And  sweeten  all  the  toils  of  human  life . 

This  be  the  female  dignity  and  praise. 

Ye  swains,  now  hasten  to  the  hazel  bank  ; 
Where  down  yon  dale,  the  wildly  winding  brook 
Falls  hoarse  from  steep  to  steep     In  close  array, 
Fit  for  the  thickets  and  tlie  tangling  shiub. 
Ye  virgins,  come.     For  yon  their  latest  song 
The  woodlands  raise ;  the  clustering  nuts  for  you 
The  lover  finds  amid  the  secret  shade ; 
And,  where  they  burnish  on  the  topmost  be  ugh 


1-^. 


X 


AUTUMN. 

With  active  vigour  crushes  down  the  tree  ; 
Or  shakes  them  ripe  from  the  resigninirhusk, 
A  glossy  shower,  and  ot'an  ardent  brown, 
As  are  the  rinsleti?  of  Melinda's  hair  : 
Melinda:  form'd  with  every  grace  complete. 
Yet  these  neglecting,  above  beauty  wise. 
And  far  transcending  such  a  vuliiar  praise. 

Hence  from  the  busy  joy-resounding  fields, 
In  cheerful  crn  >r,  let  us  tread  the  maze 
Of  Autumn,  urconfined  ;  and  taste,  revived. 
The  breath  of  orchard  bis  with  bending  fruit. 
Obedient  to  the  brei  ze  and  beating  lay, 
From  tlie  deep-loaded  bough  a  mellow  shower 
Incessant  melts  away.    7'he  juicy  pear 
Lies,  in  a  soft  profusion,  scaiter'd  round. 
A  various  sweetness  swells  the  gentle  race  , 
By  Nature's  all-refining  hand  prepared  ; 
Of  temper'd  sun,  and  water,  eartli,  and  air. 
In  every  changing  composition  mix'd. 
Such,  falling  frequent  through  the  chiller  night, 
The  fragrant  stores,  the  wide-projec'ed  heaps 
Of  apples,  which  the  lusty-handed  Year, 
Innumen^us,  o'er  tl^e  blushing  orchard  shakes. 
A  various  spirit,  fr*^sh,  delicious,  keen. 
Dwells  in  their  gelid  pores ;  and,  active,  points 
The  pierciiig  cider  for  the  thirsty  tongue: 
Thy  native  theme,  and  boon  inspirer  too, 
Philiiis,  Pomona's  bard,  the  second  thou 
Who  nobly  durst,  in  rhyme-unfeiter'd  verse, 
With  British  freedom  sing  the  British  song: 
How,  from  Silurian  vats,  high  sparkling  wines 
Foam  in  transparent  floods:  some  strong,  to  cheer 
The  wintry  revels  of  the  labouring  hind  ; 
Aid  tasteful  some,  to  cool  the  summer  hours. 

In  tiiis  glad  season,  while  his  sweetest  beams 
The  sun  sheds  equal  o'er  the  meeken'd  day;  ' 
Oh,  l(*e  me  in  the  green  delightful  walks 
Of,  Dodington,  thy  seat,  serene  and  plain  ; 
Whrre  simple  Nature  reigns;  and  every  view, 
Diffusive,  spreads  the  pure  Dorsetian  downs 
In  boundless  pros]iect :  yonder  shagg'd  with  w  ood, 
Here  ric'a  wi  h  harvest,  and  there  white  with  f.ocki 
Meantime  the  giandeur  of  ihy  'ofty  dome. 
Tar  sp'eridid,  seizes  on  the  ravish'd  eye. 
Nev/  be  luties  rise  v.  ith  eacli  revo  '  ng  day ; 


H 


AUTUMN. 

New  columns  swell ;  and  stil  the  fresh  Spring  flnda 

New  fjJants  to  quicken,  and  new  groves  to  green, 

Full  oftliy  genius  all !  the  Muses'  seat: 

Where,  in  the  secret  bower  and  winding  walk, 

For  virtuous  Young  and  thee  they  twine  the  hay. 

Here  wandering  of^t,  fired  with  the  restless  thirst 

Of  thy  applause,  I  solitary  court     x 

Th'  inspiring  breeze  :  and  meditate  the  book 

Of  Nature  ever  open;  aiming  thence, 

Warm  from  the  heart,  to  learn  the  moral  song. 

Here,  as  I  steal  along  the  sunny  wall, 

Where  Autumn  basks,  with  fruit  empurpled  deep, 

My  pleasing  theme  continual  prompts  my  thought: 

Presents  the  downy  peach  ;  the  shining  plum: 

The  ruddy  fragrant  nectarine ;  and  dark. 

Beneath  his  ample  leaf,  the  luscious  tig. 

The  vine  too  here  her  curling  tendrils  shoots! 

Hangs  out  her  clusters,  glowing,  to  the  south; 

And  scarcely  wishes  for  a  wanner  sky. 

Turn  we  a  moment  Fancy's  rapid  tiight 
To  vigorous  soils,  and  climes  of  fair  extent ; 
Where,  by  the  potent  sun  elated  high. 
The  vineyard  swells  refulgent  on  the  day; 
Spreads  o'er  the  vale  ;  or  up  the  mountain  climbs, 
Profuse,  and  drinks  amid  the  sunny  rocks. 
From  clitf  to  cliff  increased,  the  heighten'd  blaze. 
Low  bend  the  weighty  boughs.    The  clusters  clear, 
Half  through  the  foliage  seen,  or  ardent  flame 
Or  shine  transparent;  while  perfection  breathes 
White  o'er  the  turgent  film  the  living  dew. 
As  thus  they  brighten  with  exalted  juice, 
Tduch'd  into  flavour  by  the  mingling  ray  ; 
The  rural  youth  and  virgins  o'er  the  field, 
Ench  fond  for  each  to  cull  Ih'  autumnal  prime, 
Fxtilting  rove,  and  speak  the  vintage  nigh. 
1  hen  "omes  the  crushing  swain  ;  the  country  floatA^ 
Aid  foams  unbounded  with  the  mashy  flood; 
Thar,  by  degrees  fermented  and  refined. 
Round  the  raised  nations  pours  the  cup  of  joy 
The  claret  smooth,  red  as  the  lip  we  press 
In  sparkling  fancy,  while  we  drain  the  bowl ; 
The  mellow  tasted  burgundy ;  and  quick, 
A"  is  the  wit  it  gives,  the  gay  champagne. 
Now,  by  the  cool  declining  year  condensed, 


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AUTUMN 


As  up  the  middle  sky  unseen  they  ^-tole, 
And  roll  thednuhliiia;  fo2^  around  the  hill. 
No  more  the  niounlain,  horrid,  vast,  sublim 
Who  yioiirs  a  sweep  of  river*  from  his  sides, 
And  hioh  between  conteridins;  kingdoms  rears 
The  rocky  lonjr  division,  fills  the  view 
With  great  variety  ;  hut  in  a  nitzht 
Of  gatherin<:  vapour,  from  the  hatfled  sense 
Sinks  dark  and  dreary.     Thence  expanding  far, 
The  huue  dusk,  eradual,  swallows  up  the  plain: 
Vanish  the  woods:  the  dim-seen  river  seems 
Sullen  and  slow  to  roll  the  misty  wave. 
E'en  in  the  height  of  noon  oppress'd,  the  sun 
Sheds  weak  and  blunt  his  wide  refracted  ray  ; 
Whence  clarin?  oft,  with  many  a  bioa<len'd  orb. 
He  fri'^his  ilie  nations.     Indistinct  on  eatih, 
Seen  through  the  turbid  air,  beyond  the  life 
Objects  appear ;  and,  wilder'd,  o'er  the  waste 
The  shepherd  sialks  <riga!itic.     Till  at  last 
Wreaiird  dun  around,  in  deeper  circles  slill 
Successive  ciosinp,  sits  ihe  general  fog 
Unbounded  o'er  tlie  world  ;  and,  mingling  thick, 
A  form4ess  grav  confusion  covers  all. 
As  when  of  old  (so  sung  tlie  Hr  brew  Bard) 
I.ight.  uncollected,  through  Ihe  chaos  urged 
Its  infant  way  ;  nor  Order  yet  had  A\a\\  n 
His  lovely  train  from  out  the  dubious  gloom. 
These  roving  mists,  that  constant  now  begin 
To  smoke  along  the  hilly  country,  fhe.-e, 
Willi  «eigh'y  rajns  and  mehed  Alpine  snows, 
The  mountain  cisterns  fill,  those  am,  'e  stores 
Of  v\  a'er,  scoop'd  among  the  hollow  rocks; 
Whence  trush  the  streams,  the  ceaseless  fountains  pig/, 
And  their  ui'faili'is  wealth  the  rivers  draw. 
Seme  saires  say,  that,  whore  ihe  numerous  wave 
For  ever  lashes  the  resounding  shore, 
T)ri!l'd  tinouirh  the  sandy  stratum,  every  way, 
The  waters  with  the  sandy  stratum  rise  ; 
Amid  \\  hose  ariL'les  infinitelv  strain'd, 
riey  joyful  leave  tlvir  jaggy  salts  behind, 
And  dear  and  swer-tt-n  ps  they  soak  along. 
Nor  stops  the  re-'!ess  fluid,  mounting  still, 
Thouffh  oft  amidst  th'  iiriifuous  vale  it  springs; 
But  to  the  mountain  courted  by  the  sand, 
hat  leads  it  darkling  on  iii  faithful  masse, 


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104  AUTUMN. 

Far  from  the  parent  main,  it  boils  again 

Fresh  into  day ;  and  all  the  glittering  hill 

Is  bright  with  spimting  rills.    But  J.ence  this  vaiD 

Amusive  dream  !  why  should  the  waters  love 

To  take  so  far  a  journey  to  the  hills, 

When  the  sweet  valleys  offer  to  their  toil 

Inviting  quiet  and  a  nearer  bed? 

Or  it",  by  blind  ambition  Led  astray, 

They  must  aspire ;  why  should  they  sudden  stop 

Among  the  broken  mountain's  rushy  dells, 

And,  ere  ihey  gain  its  highest  peak,  desert 

Th'  attractive  sand  that  charni'd  their  course  so  long  1 

Besides  the  hard  acglomerating  salts, 

The  spoil  of  ages,  would  impervious  choak 

Their  secret  channels  ;  or,  by  slow  degrees, 

High  as  the  hills  protrude  the  swelling  vales: 

O'A  Ocean  too,  suck'd  through  the  porous  globe, 

Had  long  ere  now  forsook  his  horrid  bed. 

And  brougiit  Deucalion's  watery  times  again. 

Say  thJii,  where  lurk  the  vast  eternal  springs, 
That,  like  creating  Nature,  lie  conceal'd 
From  mortal  eye,  yet  with  their  lavish  stores 
Refresh  the  globe  and  all  its  joyous  tribes  1 
O  thou  pervading  Genius,  given  to  man, 
To  trace  the  secrets  of  the  dark  abyss, 
O  lay  the  mountains  bare  !  and  wide  display 
Their  hidden  structure  to  th'  astonisii'd  view  ; 
Strip  from  tlie  branching  Alps  their  piny  load  ; 
The  huge  encumbrance  of  horrific  woods 
From  Asian  Taurus,  from  Imaus  stretch'd 
Athwart  the  roving  Tartar's  sullen  bounds  : 
Give  opening  Hemus  to  my  searching  ej-e, 
And  high  Olympus  pouring  many  a  stream  I 
Or  from  the  sounding  summits  of  the  north, 
The  Dofiine  hills,  through  Scandinavia  roll'd 
To  farthest  Lapland  and  the  frozen  main ; 
From  lot'ty  Caucasus,  far  seen  by  those 
Who  ill  the  Caspian  and  black  Euxine  toil : 
From  cold  Riphean  rocks,  which  the  wild  Russ 
Believf  s  liie  stony  sirdle*  of  the  world: 
And  all  the  dreadful  mountains,  wrapp'd  in  storm, 

*  The  MusCiA'ites  call  the  Riphean  Mountains  JVeliki 
£iiinniiipoys ;  that  is,  the.  great  stony  Girdle:  h«eause 
ihey  siirpose  them  to  encompass  the  whole  eartt 


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AUTUMN 


Whence  wide  Siberia  draws  her  lonely  floods ; 

0  sweep  Ih'  eternal  snrnvs :   Hunsr  o'er  the  deep 
That  ever  works  beneath  his  soundi 
Bid  Atlas,  propping  heaven,  as  poets  feign 
His  subterranean  wonders  spread  I  nnveu 
The  niiny  caverns,  blazing  on  th§,day, 
Of  Abyssinia's  cloud-compf  Ilin^  clilis, 
And  of  the  bending  Mountains*  of  the  Moon  I 
O'ertopping  all  these  giant  sons  of  earth, 
Let  the  dire  Andes,  fiom  the  radiant  line 
Stretch'd  to  the  stormy  seas  that  thunder  round 
The  southern  po'e,  tlieir  hideous  deeps  unfold! 
Amazing  scene  !  behold  !  the  glooms  disclose  ; 

1  see  the  rivers  in  their  infant  beds ! 
Deep,  deep  I  hear  them,  labouring  to  get  free ; 
I  see  the  leaning  strata,  artful  ranged; 
The  gaping  fissures  to  receive  the  rains, 
The  melting  snows,  and  ever  dripping  fogs. 
Strow'd  bibulous  above  I  see  the  sands, 
The  pebbly  gravel  next,  the  layers  then 
Of  mingled  moulds,  of  more  retentive  earths, 
The  gutter'd  rocks  and  mazy-running  clefts  ; 
That,  while  the  stealing  moisture  they  transmit. 
Retard  its  motion,  and  forbid  its  waste. 
Beneatii  lli'  incessant  weeping  of  these  drains, 
I  see  the  rocky  siphons  stretch'd  immense, 
The  mighty  reservoirs,  of  hardcfi'd  chalk, 
Or  stiff  compacted  clay,  capacious  form'd  : 
O'erflowing  thence,  the  congregated  stores, 
The  crystal  treasures  of  the  liquid  world, 
Through  the  stirr'd  sands  a  bubbling  passage  turrt 
And  welling  out,  around  the  middle  steep, 
Or  from  the  bottoms  of  the  bosom'd  hills, 
In  pure  effusion  flow.    United,  thus, 
Tir  exhaling  sun,  the  vapour-burden'd  air, 
Tiie  gelid  mountains,  that  to  rain  condensed 
These  vapours,  in  continual  current  draw, 
And  send  them,  o'er  the  fair-divided  earth, 
In  bouiiteous  nvers  to  the  deep  again, 
A  social  commerce  hold,  and  firm  support 
The  full  adjusted  harmony  of  thincs. 

When  Autiunn  scatters" his  departing  gleans, 

*  A  range  of  nr  luntains  in  Africa,  that  surround  almost 
all  Monomotapu. 


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Warn'd  rtf  approachin";  Winter,  gather'd,  play 
Tne  swailow  people;  and  toss'd  wide  arouiid, 
O'er  the  calm  slcy,  in  convolution  swift, 
The  teather'd  eddy  floats  :  rejoicing  once, 
Ere  to  their  wintry  slumbers  they  retire  ; 
[k  clusters  clunji,  beneath  the  mouldering  bank, 
Anl  where,  unpierced  by  frost,  the  cavern  sweats 
Or  lather  into  warmer  climes  convey'd, 
With  other  liindred  birds  of  season,  there 
They  twitter  cheerful,  till  the  vernal  months 
Invite  them  welcome  back  :  for,  thronging,  now 
In  numerous  wings  are  in  commotion  all. 

Where  the  Rhine  loses  his  majestic  force 
In  Belgian  plains,  won  from  the  raging  deep, 
By  diligence  amazing,  and  the  strong 
Unconquerable  hand  of  Liberty, 
The  ^tork  assembly  meets  :  for  many  a  day, 
Consuliing  deep  and  various,  ere  tliey  take 
Their  arduous  voyage  tinough  the  liquid  sky. 
And  now  their  rouie  design'd,  their  leaders  chose, 
riieir  tribes  adjusted,  clean'd  their  vigorous  wings 
And  many  a  circle,  many  a  short  essay, 
Wheel'd  "round  and  round,  in  congregation  full 
The  figured  fligJit  ascends  ;  and,  riding  high 
Th'  aerial  billows,  mixes  with  the  clouds. 

Or  where  the  Northern  ocean,  in  vast  vrhirls, 
Boils  round  the  naked  melancholy  isles 
Of  furthest  Thule,  and  th'  Allaniic  surge 
Pours  in  among  the  stormy  Hebrides : 
Who  can  rtcount  what  transmigrations  there 
Are  annual  made?  what  nations  come  and  go? 
And  how  ihe  living  clouds  on  clouds  arise  ? 
Infinite  wings  I  till  all  the  plume-dark  air 
And  rude  resounding  shore  are  one  wild  cry. 

Here  the  plain  harmless  native  his  small  flock. 
And  herd  dijnitmtive  of  many  hues, 
Tends  on  tiie  little  island's  verdant  swell, 
The  shepherd's  seagirt  reign  ;  or,  to  the  rocks 
Dire-clinging,  gathers  his  ovarif)us  food  ; 
Or  sweeps  the  lishy  shore  !  or  treasures  up 
Tlie  plumage,  rising  full,  to  form  the  bed 
Of  luxury.     And  here  awhile  t.':e  Muse, 
High  hovering  o'er  the  broad  cerulean  scene, 
Rees  Caledonia,  in  romantic  view: 
Her  airy  raoiuitains,  from  the  waving  main, 


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Invested  with  a  keen  diffusive  sky, 

Breathing  the  soul  acute  ;  her  forests  hu^e 

Incult,  robust,  and  tall,  by  Nature's  hand 

Planted  of  old  ;  her  azure  lakes  between, 

Pour'd  out  extensive,  and  of  watery  wealth 

Full ;  winding  deep  and  green  her  fertile  vaJes  ; 

With  many  a  cool  translucent  brimming  flood 

VVash'd  lovely,  from  the  Tweed  (pure  parent  stream, 

Whose  pastoral  banks  first  heard  niy  Doric  reed, 

With,  silvan  Jed,  thy  tributary  brook) 

To  where  the  norlh-inflated  tempest  foams 

O'er  Orca's  or  Betubium's  highest  peak: 

Nurse  of  a  people,  in  Misfortune's  school 

Train'd  up  to  hardy  deeds  ;  soon  \isited 

By  Learning,  when  before  the  gothic  rage 

She  took  her  western  flisht.     A  manly  race, 

Of  tinsubmitting  spirit,  wise  and  brave  ; 

Who  still  through  bleeding  ages  struggled  hard, 

(As  well  unhappy  Wallace  can  attest. 

Great  patriot-liero  !  ill  requited  chief!) 

To  hold  a  srenerovis  undiminish'd  state  ; 

Too  much  in  vain  !   Hence  of  unequal  bounds 

Impatient,  and  by  temptins  glory  borne 

0"ei  every  land,  for  every  land  their  life 

Has  flow'd  profuse,  their  piercin>i  genius  plann'd. 

And  swell'd  the  pomp  of  peace  thf.ir  faithful  toil. 

As  from  their  own  clear  norih,  in  radiant  streams, 

Bright  over  Europe  bursis  tlin  boreal  morn. 

Oh  !  is  there  not  some  patriot,  in  whose  power 
That  best,  that  godlike  luxury  is  placed. 
Of  DiessinL'  thousands,  tnousauds  yet  unborn, 
Through  late  posieriiy  ';  some,  large  of  soul. 
To  cheer  dejected  industry  ?  to  give 
A  double  harvest  to  the  pining  swain  ? 
And  teach  the  labouring  hand  the  sweets  of  toil  ? 
How,  by  the  fine^-t  art,  the  native  robe 
To  weave  :  how,  white  as  hyperborean  snr  w, 
To  form  the  lucid  lawn  ;  with  venturous  oar 
How  to  dash  wide  the  billow  ;  nor  look  on, 
Shamefully  passive,  while  Batavian  fleets 
Def.aud  us  of  the  glittering  finny  swarms, 
That  heave  our  friths,  and  crowd  upon  our  shores ; 
How  all-enlivenins  trade  to  rouse,  and  wing 
Th*^  pro-perons  sail,  from  every  growing  port, 
Uninjured,  round  the  sta-encncied  ^lobe; 


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And  tliii?,  in  soul  united  as  in  name, 

Bid  Britain  roign  the  niisiiess  of  the  detp  1 

Yes,  there  are  such.     And  full  on  thee,  Argyle, 
Her  liope,  her  slay,  her  darlinjr,  and  lier  boast, 
From  her  first  patriots  and  lier  heroes  sprung, 
Thy  fond  imploring  country  turns  h^r  eye  ; 
In  tliee,  with  all  a  mother's  triumph  sees 
Her  every  virtue,  every  grace  combined. 
Her  genius,  wisdom,  lier  engaging  turn. 
Her  pride  of  honour,  and  her  courage  tried, 
Calm,  aiid  intrepid,  in  the  very  throat 
Of  sulphurous  war,  on  Tenier's  dreadful  field. 
Nor  liss  the  palm  of  peace  inwreaths  thy  brow; 
For,  poweiful  as  thy  sword,  from  thy  rich  tongue 
persuasion  flows,  and  wins  the  high  debate  ; 
VVhiie  mix'd  in  thee  combine  the  charm  of  youth. 
The  force  of  manhood,  and  the  depth  of  age. 
Thee,  Forbes,  too,  whom  every  worth  attends, 
As  truth  sincere,  as  weeping  I'riendship  kind, 
Thee,  truly  generous,  and  in  silence  great,  ^ 

Thy  country  feels  through  her  reviving  arts, 
Pla'nn'd  by  thy  wisdom,  by  iliy  soul  inform'd ; 
And  seldom  has  siie  known  a  fiiend  like  thee. 

But  see  the  fadins  many-coiour'd  woods, 
Shade  deepening  over  shade,  the  country  round 
[mbrown  ;  a  cro«  ded  umbrage,  dusk,  and  dun, 
Of  every  hue,  from  wan  d< dining  green 
To  sooty  dark.     These  now  tlie  lonesome  Muse, 
Low-wiiisperinir,  lead  into  their  leaf-strown  walks, 
And  give  the  Season  in  its  latest  view. 

Meantime,  light-shadowing  all,  a  sober  calm 
Fleeces  unbounded  ether  ;  who^e  least  wave 
S-tands  tremulous,  uncertain  where  to  turn 
The  sentle  current:  wliile  illumined  wide. 
The  dewy-skirted  clouds  imbibe  the  sun, 
And  through  th<4r  lucid  veil  his  softened  three 
Blied  o'er  the  p"aceful  world.     Then  is  the  time, 
For  those  whom  Wisdom  and  whom  Nature  charm 
'j'o  sieal  tiiemselves  from  the  degenerate  crowd, 
And  soar  above  this  little  scene  of  things: 
To  tread  low-thotichted  Vice  beneath  their  feet ; 
To  sooth  the  throbbing  passions  into  pea'.e  ; 
And  woo  lone  Quiet  in  her  silent  walks 

Thus  solitary,  and  in  peiif^ive  guise, 
Oft  let  me  wander  o'er  the  russet  mead, 


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AUTUMN. 


And  throuali  tlie  sndden'd  srove,  where  scarce  is  heard 

Oiip  dyins  strfiiM,  to  cheer  t!ie  wnndiii:in''t?  toil. 

Haply  some  widow'd  songster  pours  his  plaint, 

Fai-,  in  faint  waihlings,  throuah  the  tawny  copse 

While  con<_'rP2ated  thrushes,  linnets,  larks, 

And  each  wild  throat,  whose  artless  strains  so  late 

Swi>ird  all  thu  music  of  the  swarming  shades, 

lloLb'd  of  their  tuneful  souls,  now  shivering  sit 

On  the  dead  tree,  a  full  despondent  flock  ; 

With  not  a  brightness  wavin<i  o'er  their  plumes, 

And  naught  save  cliattering  discord  in  their  note. 

O  let  not,  aiin'd  from  some  inhuman  eye, 

The  gun  the  music  of  the-coming  year 

Destroy  ;  and  harmless,  unsuspecting  harm. 

Lay  the  weak  tribes  a  niiserahle  prt^y, 

In  mingled  murder,  fluttering  on  tlieground  ! 

Tlie  pale  descending  year,  yet  pleasing  still, 
A  gentler  mood  inspires;  for  now  the  leaf 
Incessant  rustles  from  the  mournful  grove  ; 
Oft  startling  such  as,  studious,  walk  below, 
And  slowly  circles  through  the  wavinsr  air. 
But  should  a  quicker  breeze  amid  the  boushs 
Sob  o'er  the  sky,  the  leafj  deluge  stn^ams ; 
Till  choaktd,  and  matted" with  the  dieary  shower, 
The  forest-walks,  at  every  rising  gale, 
Roll  wide  the  wiiher'd  waste,  and   whistle  bleak. 
Fled  is  the  blasted  verdure  of  the  fields  ; 
And,  shrunk  into  iheir  beds,  the  flowery  race 
Their  sunny  robes  resign.     F/e-n  what  remain'd 
Of  stronger  fruits  falls  from  the  naked  tree; 
And  woods,  fields,  gardens,  orchard-,  all  around 
The  desolated  prospect  thrills  the  soul. 

He  comes!  he  comes!  in  every  breeze  the  Powei 
Of  Philosophic  Melanclioly  comes! 
His  near  approach  the  sudden  starting  tpar, 
The  gjowinc  cheek,  the  mild  dejected  air, 
The  soften'd  feature,  and  the  beating  heart, 
Pierced  deep  with  many  a  virtuous  panu,  declare 
O'er  all  the  soul  his  sacred  influence  breathes  ! 
Inflames  imagina'ion  ;  through  the  breast 
Infuses  every  tenderness  ;  and  far 
Beyond  dim  earth  exalts  the  swellins  thought 
Ten  thousand  thousand  fleet  idea-,  such 


}       i^\  I       As  never  miniiled  witli  the  vulcar  dream 
r     ■%      '^rovvd  fast  into  the  mind's  cie3<ive  eye. 


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As  fast  the  correspondent  passions  rise. 

As  varied  and  as  hi^h  :  Devotion  raised 

To  rapture  and  divine  astonishment ; 

The  love  of  Nature  unconflned,  and,  chief, 

Of  human  race  ;  the  large  ambitious  wisa 

'J'o  make  them  bless'd  ;  the  si^th  for  suffering  worth 

Lost  in  obscurity  ;  the  noble  scorn 

Of  tyrant  pride  ;  the  fearless  great  resolve ; 

Thi  wonder  which  the  dying  patriot  draws, 

[M>piriiig  glory  through  remotest  time; 

'j'h'  avvaki  n'd  throb  for  virtue  and  for  fame; 

The  sympathies  of  love,  Snd  friendship  dear: 

Wi'hall  the  social  offspring  of  the  heart. 
Oh  !  bear  me  then  to  vast  embowering  shades, 

To  twilight  groves,  and  vi-ionary  vales  ; 

To  weeping'grottos,  and  prophetic  'looms; 
Where  anL'el  forms  athwart  the  solenm  dusk 

TrpmendiMis  sweep,  or  seem  to  sweep  along; 
And  voi'  es  more  than  human,  through  the  void 
Dipp-poundins,  seize  ih'  ernhusiatic  ear! 

Or  is  \.\\\<  uloom  too  much  ?   Then  lead,  ye  poweri 
That  o'er  llic  garden  and  the  rural  seat 
Preside,  which  shinins:  throush  the  cheerful  land 
In  countless  numbers  bless'd  Britannia  sees; 
O,  lead  me  to  the  wide-extended  walks, 
The  fair  majestic  paradise  of  Stowel* 
Not  Persian  Cyrus  on  Ionia's  shore 
r.'er  saw  such  silvan  scenes  :  such  various  art 
ily  genius  fired,  such  ardent  genius  tamed 
By  cool  judicious  art:  that,  in  the  strife, 
All-heauteous  Nature  fears  to  be  outdone. 
And  there,  O  Pitt,  thy  country's  rarly  boast, 
There  let  me  sit  beneath  the  sheltered  slopes, 
Or  in  iJiat  Templet  rt'here  in  future  times, 
Thou  well  shalt  merit  a  distingnish'd  name; 
And,  with  thy  converse  bless'd,  catch  the  last  sraileg 
Of  Auinmn  beaming  o'er  the  yellow  w-oods. 
While  there  with  thee  th'  enchanted  round  1  walk, 
The  regulated  wild,  say  Fancy  then 
Will  tread  in  thousht  the  groves  of  Attic  land; 
Will  from  thy  standard  taste  refine  her  own, 
Correct  her  pencil  to  the  purest  truth 


*  The  seat  of  Lord  Cobhain. 

\  The  Temple  of  Virtue  in  Stow*  Gardens. 


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Of  Natr.re,  or,  the  uyrimpfvcsion'c!  shades 
Forsaking,  raise  it  to  the  liuman  mind. 
Or  if  hereafter  she,  with  juster  hand, 
Shall  draw  the  tragic  scene,  instruct  her,  thou. 
To  mark  the  varied  movements  of  tlie  heart, 
What  every  deceiit  character  requires. 
And  every  "passion  speaks:  O,  through  hpr  strain 
Breathe  thy  paiiietic  eloquence !  tliat  moulds 
Th'  attentive  senate,  charms,  persuades,  exalts, 
Of  honest  Zeal  th'  indijinant  liiihtnins;  throws, 
And  shakes  Corruptidu  on  her  venal  throne. 
While  thus  we  talk,  :n.d  tliroush  Eiysian  vales 
Dflishied  rove,  perhaps  a  siirh  escapes  : 
What  pity,  Cobham,  fliou  thy  verdant  files 
Of  order'd  tiees  shouldsi  here  inglorious  range, 
Instead  of  squadrons  flaming  o'er  the  field, 
And  lonn;  embattled  hosts  I  when  the  proud  foe. 
The  faithless  ,  ain  disUirber  of  mankind, 
Iriiiidtiiia:  Gaul,  has  roused  the  world  to  war  : 
Vhen  keen,  once  more,  within  their  bounds  to  preaj 
T  hose  tK)!ish'd  robbers,  those  ambiiious  slaves. 
The  British  youth  would  hail  thy  wish  command, 
f  hy  teniper'd  ardour,  and  thy  veteran  skill. 

The  weste  n  sun  withdraws  the  shorten'd  day  ; 
And  hu-   id  Evenin?,  gliding  o'er  the  sky, 
In  lier  chill  progre.  s,  !o  the  ground  corulensed 
The  vapour  throws.     Where  creejyins  waters  ooze, 
Where  marshes  stairnate,  and  where  rivers  wind. 
Cluster  tlie  rolliiio  foas,  and  swim  along 
The  dusky  mantled  lawn.     Meanwhile  the  Moon 
Full  orb'd,  and  breaking  through  the  scatter'd  clouds, 
Fhows  her  broad  visage  in  the  crimson 'd  east. 
Turii'd  to  the  sun  direct,  l)er  spotted  disk, 
A^Jhere  mountains  lise,  timbrageous  dales  descend, 
And  cnvem-  deep,  as  optic  tube  desciies, 
A  smaller  earth,  gives  up  his  blaze  again, 
Void  of  its  flame,  and  i?Jicds  a  softer  day. 
Now  through  the  passing  cloud  she  seems  to  sloop, 
Now  up  the  pure  rerukan  rides  sublime. 
Wide  the  pale  dehiire  floats,  and  streaming  miJd 
O'er  the  skied  mountain  to  the  shadowy  vale. 
While  rncks  and  floods  reflect  the  quivering  gleam, 
The  whole  air  whitens  with  a  boundless  tide 
Of  silver  radiance,  trembling  round  the  world, 
ut  when  half  blotted  from  the  sky  her  light 


frj 


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AUTUMN. 


Tainting,  permits  i..    starry  fires  to  butn 

VViih  keener  lustre  tiirouah  the  depiii  of  heaven; 

Or  near  extinct  her  deaden'd  orb  appears, 

And  scarce  appears,  of  sickly  beaniless  white; 

Oft  in  this  season,  silent  from  the  north 

A  blaze  of  meteors  shoots  ;  ensweeping  first 

The  lower  skies,  they  all  at  once  converge 

High  to  the  crown  of  lieaven,  and  all  at  once 

Relapshig  quick,  as  quickly  reascend. 

And  mix,  and  thwart,  extinguish,  and  renew, 

All  ether  coursing  in  a  maze  of  light. 

From  look  to  look,  contagious  through  the  crowd, 
The  panic  runs,  and  into  wondrous  shapes 
Th'  api-'carance  throws  :  armies  in  meet  array, 
ThrongM  with  aerial  spears,  and  steeds  of  tire  ; 
Till  the  long  lines  of  full  extended  war 
[n  bleeding  fight  commix'd,  the  sanguine  flood 
Rolls  a  broad  slaughter  o'er  the  plauis  of  heaven. 
As  thus  they  scanthe  visionary  scene. 
On  all  sides" swells  the  supersiitious  din, 
Incontinent ;  and  busy  frenzy  talks 
Of  blood  and  battle;  cities  overturn'd, 
And  late  at  night  in  swallowing  earthquake  sunk, 
Or  hideous  wrapp'd  in  fierce  ascending  flame  ; 
Of  sallow  famine,  inundation,  storm  ; 
Of  pesulence,  and  every  great  distress; 
Empires  subversed,  when  ruling  fate  has  Rtruck 
Th'  unalterable  hour  :  e'en  Nature's  self 
Is  deem'd  to  totter  on  the  brink  of  time. 
Not  so  the  man  of  philosophic  eye, 
And  inspect  sage  ;  the  w'aving  brightness  he 
Curious  surveys,  inquisitive  to  know 
The  causes  and  materials,  yet  unfix'd, 
Of  this  appearance  beautiful  and  new. 

Now  black  and  deep  the  night  begins  to  ftill, 
A  shade  immense.     Sunk  in  the  quenching  glcxKO, 
Magnificent  and  vast,  are  heaven  and  earth. 
Order  confounded  lies;  all  beauty  void  ; 
Distinction  lost ;  and  gay  variety 
One  universal  blot:  such  the  fair  power 
Of  light,  to  kindle  and  create  the  whole. 
Drear  is  the  state  of  the  benighted  wretch, 
Who  then,  bewilder'd,  wanders  through  the  iark 
Full  of  pale  fancies  and  chimeras  huge ; 

"or  viijted  by  one  direc*-      ray, 


AUTUMN. 


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From  cottage  streaming,  or  from  airy  hall 
Perhaps  impatient  as  he  stumbles  on, 
Struck  from  the  root  of  slimy  rushes,  blue, 
The  wildfire  scatters  round, "or,  fzatlier'd,  trails 
A  length  of  flame  deceitful  o'er  the  moss : 
Whither  decoy'd  by  the  fantastic  blaze, 
Now  lost  and  now  renew'd,  he  sinks  absorb'd, 
Rider  and  horse,  am.d  ihe  miry  gulf: 
While  still,  from  day  to  day,  his  pining  wife 
And  plaintive  children  his  return  await, 
In  wild  conjecture  lost.     At  other  times, 
Sent  by  the  better  genius  of  the  niL'ht, 
Innoxious,  gleaming  on  the  horse's  mane, 
The  meteor  sits  ;  and  shows  the  narrow  i)ath, 
That  winding  leads  througii  pits  of  death,  or  elee 
Instructs  him  how  to  take  the  dangerous  fotd. 

The  lengihen'd  night  elapsed,  the  Morning  shines 
Serene,  in  all  her  dewy  beauty  bright, 
Unfolding  fair  the  last  autumnal  day. 
And  now  the  mounting  sun  dispels  the  fog  ; 
The  rigid  hoar-frost  melts  before  his  beam  ; 
And  hung  on  every  spray,  on  every  blade 
Of  grass,  the  myriad  dew  drops  twinkle  round. 

Ah,  see  w^here  robb'd  and  nmrder'd,  in  ihat  pit 
Lies  the  still  heo.vinir  hive  !  at  evening  snatch'd, 
Beneath  the  cloud  of  guiK-roncealing  night. 
And  fix'd  o'er  sulphur;  while,  not  dreaming  ill, 
The  happy  people,  in  their  waxen  cells. 
Sat  tending  public  cares,  and  planning  schemes 
Of  temperance,  for  Winter  poor  ;  rejoiced 
To  mark,  full  flowing  round,  their  copious  stores. 
Sudden  the  dark  oppressive  steam  ascends  ; 
And,  used  to  milder  scents,  ihe  tender  race, 
By  thousands,  tumble  from  their  honied  domes, 
Convolved,  and  agonizing  in  the  du?t. 
And  was  it  then  for  this  you  roam'd  the  Spring, 
Intent  from  flower  to  flower  1  for  this  you  toil'd 
Ceaseless  the  burning  Summer  iiea's  away  ? 
For  this  in  Autumn  search'd  the  blooniina  waste, 
Nor  Inst  ona  sunny  gleam  1  for  this  sad  fate  ? 
O  Man  !  tyrannic  "lord  !  how  long,  how  Ii)ng 
Shall  prostrate  Nature  groan  beneath  your  rage, 
Awaiiiinr  renovation  ?  v^  hen  obliged, 
Musr  ynu  destroy  1  of  tiieir  ambrosial  food 
Can  \  ou  not  borrow  :  and  in  just  return, 


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114  AUTUMN. 

Afford  them  shelter  from  the  wintry  wnndg; 

Or,  as  the  slsirp  year  pinches,  with  their  owu 

Again  regale  them  on  some  smiling  day"? 

See  where  the  stony  bottom  of  their  town 

Looks  desolate  and' wild  ;  with  here  and  there 

A  helpless  number,  who  the  ruin'd  state 

Survive,  lamenthig  weak,  cast  out  to  death. 

Thus  a  proud  city,  populou"  and  rich. 

Full  of  the  works  of  peace,  and  liigh  in  joy, 

At  theatre  or  feast,  or  sunk  in  sleep, 

(As  late,  Palermo,  was  thy  fate,)  is  seized 

By  some  dread  earthquake,  add  convulsive  hurl'd 

Sheer  from  the  black  foundation,  stench-involved, 

Into  a  gulf  of  blue  sulphureous  liame. 

Hence  every  harsher  siiiht !  for  now  the  day, 
O'er  heaven  and  earth  ditfused,  grows  warm  and  high 
Infinite  splendour  !  wide  investing  all. 
How  still  the  breeze  !  save  what  the  filmy  threads 
Of  dew  evaporate  brushes  from  the  plain. 
How  clear  the  cloudless  sky  I  how  deeply  tinged 
With  a  peculiar  blue!  th'  ethereal  arch 
How  sweird  immense!  amid  whose  azure  thronea, 
The  radiant  sun  how  gay  I  how  cahn  below 
The  gilded  earth  !  the  harvest-treasures  all 
Now  gathered  in,  beyond  the  rage  of  storms, 
Surf  to  the  swain  ;  the  circling  fence  shut  up ; 
And  instant  Winter's  utmost  rage  defied. 
While,  loose  to  festive  joy,  the  country  round 
LauL'hs  with  the  loud  sincerity  of  mirth. 
Shook  to  the  wind  their  cares.    The  toil-strung  youtb 
B"  the  quick  sense  of  music  taught  alone, 
Leaps  wilri.y  graceful  in  the  lively  dance. 
Her  every  cliarm  abroad,  the  village  toast, 
Young.  bLxoin,  warn.,  in  native  beauty  rich, 
Darts  no   unmeaniuj^  looks  ;  and,  uhere  her  eye 
Points  ai.  approving  smile,  \v'v.h  df.uble  force 
The  cudgel  rattles,  and  the  wrestler  twines. 
Ase  too  shines  out ;  and,  garrulous,  recounts 
The  feats  of  youth.     Thus  they  rejoice  ;  nor  tbiak 
That,  with  to  ojorrow's  sun,  their  annual  toH 
Begnis  again  the  never  ceasing  round. 

Oh.  knew  he  but  his  happiness,  of  men. 
The  hapjiieit  he  1  u  ho  far  fmm  f)nblic  rage, 
Deep  in  the  vale,  with  a  choice  few  retired, 
Drinks  the  pure  pleasure  of  the  Rural  Life 


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What  tlioush  the  dome  be  wanting,  whose  proud  gate, 
Each  morning,  vomits  out  the  sneakinj^  crowd 
Of  flatterers  false,  and  in  tlit-ir  turn  abused? 
Vile  intercourse!  what  tliouclithe  glittering roiJe 
Of  t-verj-  hue  reflected  liirht  can  give, 
Or  floating  loose,  or  stiffWitli  mazy  gold, 
The  pride  and  gaze  of  fools !  oppress  liim  not  1 
What  though,  froni  utmost  land  and  sea  purvey'd, 
For  him  each  rarer  tributary  life 
Bleeds  not,  and  his  insatiate  table  heaps 
With  luxury  and  death  ?    What  though  his  Dow 
Flam.es  notwith  costly  juice  ;  nor  sunk  in  beds, 
Oft  of  gay  care,  he  tosses  out  the  night. 
Or  melts  the  thoughtless  hours  in  idle  state  1 
What  thoutih  he  knows  not  those  fanias-tic  joys 
That  still  amuse  the  wanton,  still  deceive; 
A  face  of  pleasure,  but  a  heart  ofpain^'; 
Th<  ir  hollow  moments  undelighted  alii 
Pure  peace  is  his ;  a  solid  life,  estranged 
To  disappointment  and  fallacious  hope: 
Rich  in  ccnitent,  in  Nature's  bounty  rich. 
In  herbs  and  fruits ;  whatever  greens  the  Sjiring, 
When  heaven  descends  in  showers ;  or  bends  the  bough, 
Wt'en  Summer  reddens,  and  when  Autumn  beams, 
Or  in  the  wintry  glebe  whatever  lies 
Conceal'd,  and  fattens  with  the  richest  sap: 
These  are  not  wanting  :  nor  the  milky  drove, 
Luxuriant,  spread  o'er  all  the  lowins  vale; 
Nor  bleating  mountains  ;  nor  the  chide  of  streams. 
And  hum  of  bees,  invitins  sleep  sincere 
Into  the  guiltless  breast,  beneath  the  shade, 
Or  thrown  at  large  amid  the  fragrant  hay; 
Nor  aught  b-^sides  of  prosnecf,  grove,  or  song, 
Dim  grottoes,  gleaming  lakes,  and  fountain  clear- 
Here  too  dvvells  simple  Truth :  plain  Innocence ; 
Unsullied  Beauty  ;    sound  unbroken  Youth, 
Patient  of  labour,  with  a  little  pleased  ; 
Health  ever  blooming  ;  unambitious  Toil; 
Calm  Contemplation,  and  poetic  Ease. 

Let  others  brave  tl.'e  flood  in  que.«t  ofgahi, 
And  beat,  for  joyless  months,  thf  gloomy  wave. 
Let  such  a~  deenj  it  glory  to  ripstroy 
J     Rtish  into  bluod,  the'^sack  of  ri.ii  s  seek  , 
L'nfierred,  exulting  in  the  wi<lo\\'s  wail, 
rh-  virgin's  shriek,  and  infant's  tiembling  cry 


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Let  some,  far  distani  fronj  their  native  soil, 

Urged  or  by  want  or  harden'd  avarice, 

Fi;id  other  lands  beneath  another  sun. 

Lei  this  through  cities  work  iiis  eager  way, 

By  legal  outrage  and  establish'd  guile, 

The  social  sense  extinct ;  and  that  fermeat, 

Mad.  intotnmuU  tlie  seditious  herd, 

Or  melt  them  down  to  slavery.     Let  these 

Insnare  the  v/retched  in  the  toils  of  law, 

Fomenting  discord,  and  perplexing  right, 

An  iron  race  1  and  tiiose  of  t'airer  front. 

But  equal  inhumanity,  in  courts, 

Df-iusive  pomp  and  dark  cabals  delight ; 

Wreatiie  the  deep  bow,  diffuse  the  lying  smile, 

And  tread  theweaiy  labyrinth  of  state. 

While  he,  from  all  the  stormy  passions  free 

Tiiat  restless  men  involve,  hears,  and  butheara 

At  distance  safe,  the  human  tempest  roar, 

Wrapp'd  close  in  conscious  peace.     Tlie  fall  of  king*. 

The  rasie  of  nations,  and  the  crush  of  stdtes 

Move  not  the  man  who,  from  the  world  escaped, 

In  still  retreats  and  flowery  solitudes. 

To  Nature's  voice  attends,  from  month  to  month, 

And  day  to  day,  through  the  revolving  year; 

Admiring,  sees  her  in  her  every  shape  ; 

Feels  all  her  sweet  emotions  at  his  heart; 

Takes  what  she  liberal  gives,  nor  thinks  of  more. 

He,  when  youmi  Spring  protrudes  the  bursting  aems, 

Marks  the  tirst  bud,  and  sucks  the  healthful  gale 

Into  hisfreshen'd  soul;  her  genial  hours 

He  full  enjoys  ;  and  not  a  beauty  blows. 

And  not  an  opening  blossom  breathes  in  vahi. 

fu  Sunimf-rhe,  beneath  the  living  shade, 

Such  as  o'er  frigid  Tempe  wont  to  wave, 

Or  Hemuscool,  reads  wliat  the  Muse,  of  these. 

Perhaps,  has  in  immortal  numbers  sung; 

Or  what  she  dictates  writes :  and,  oft  an  eye 

Shot  round,  rejoices  in  the  vigorous  year." 

When  Autumn's  yellow  lustre  gilds  "the  world, 

And  tempts  ihesicklcd  swain  into  the  field, 

Seized  by  the  general  joy,  his  heart  distends 

VVith  gentle  throes ;  and,  through  the  tepid  gleams 

Deep  musing,  tlKTs  he  best  exerts  bis  song. 

E'en  Winter  wild  to  him  is  full  of  bliss. 

TJie  mighty  tempest,  and  the  hoary  waste. 


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Abrupt  and  deep,  stretch'd  o'er  tlie  buried  earth, 

Awake  to  solemn  thought.     At  night  the  skies, 

Disclosnd,  and  kindled,  by  refining  frost, 

Pour  every  histve  on  th'  cxaUed  eye. 

A  friend,  a  book,  the  stealing  hours  secure, 

And  mark  them  down  for  wisdom.    With  swift  wing 

O'er  land  and  sea  imagination  roams; 

Or  truth,  divinely  breaking  on  his  mind. 

Elates  his  being,  "and  unfolds  his  powers  ; 

Or  in  his  breast  heroic  virtue  bums 

The  touch  of  kindred  too  and  V.xe  ne  feels ; 

The  modest  eye,  whose  beams  on  his  alone 

Ecstatic  shine;  the  little  strorg  embrace 

Of  prattliiig  children,  twined  around  his  neck, 

And  emulous  to  please  him,  calling  forth 

]"he  fond  parental  soul.     Nor  purpose  gay, 

Amusement,  dance,  or  song,  he  stenily  scorns  ; 

For  happiness  and  true  philosophy 

Are  of  the  social,  still,  and  smiling  kind. 

This  is  the  life  which  those  who  fret  in  guilt, 

And  guilty  cities,  never  knew  ;  the  life, 

Led  by  primeval  ages,  uncorrupt. 

When  Angels  dwelt,  and  God  himself,  with  Man! 

Oh,  Nature! all-sufficient:  over  all! 
Enrich  me  with  the  knowledge  of  thy  works ! 
Ssia'ch  me  tci.lieaven  ;  thy  rolling  wonders  there, 
World  beyond  world,  in  infinite  extent, 
Profusely  scatter'd  o'er  the  blue  immense. 
Show  me  ;  their  motions,  periods,  and  their  laws 
Give  me  to  scan  ;  through  the  disclosing  deep 
Light  my  bliiid  way :  the  mineral  strata  there ; 
Thrust,  blooming,  thence  the  vegetable  world; 
O'er  that  llie  rising  system,  more  complex, 
Of  animals;  and  liiglier  still,  the  mind, 
The  varied  scene  of  quick-compounded  thought, 
And  where  the  mixing  passions  endless  shift ; 
These  ever  open  to  my  ravish' d  eye  ; 
A  search,  the  flight  of  "time  can  ne'er  exhaust! 
But  if  to  that  unequal ;  if  the  blood. 
In  slut.'!ii>h  streams  about  my  heart,  forbid 
Tliat  best  ambition  ;  under  closing  shades, 
Li  glorious,  lay  me  by  the  lowly  brook. 
And  «  hisper  to  my  dreams.    From  Thee  begin, 
Dwell  all  on  Thee",  with  Thee  conclude  my  song 
And  let  me  never,  nevei  stray  from  Thee! 


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fh*  Bubject  proposed.  Address  to  the  Earl  of  VVilming- 
ton.  First  approach  of  Winter.  According  to  the 
natural  course  of  the  season,  various  storms  described. 
Rain.  Wind.  Snow.  The  driving  of  the  snows,  a 
man  perish'n^  imong  them;  whence  reflections  on  the 
wants  and  miseries  of  human  life.  The  wolves  de- 
scending from  the  Alps  and  Apennines.  A  winter 
evening  described;  as  spent  by  philosophers:  by  the 
counti  y  people  ;  in  the  city.  Frost.  A  view  of  Winter 
within  the  potar  circle.  A  thaw.  The  whole  con 
eluding  with  moral  reflections  on  a  future  state. 


? 


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WINTER. 


See,  Winter  cnmes,  to  rule  the  varied  year, 
Sullen  and  sad,  with  all  his  rising  traiu  ; 
Vapours  and  Clouds  and  Siorms,    Be  these  my  theme, 
These  !  that  exalt  the  soul  to  solemn  thouiiht, 
And  lieavenly  muring.    Welcome,  kindred  gloomfl, 
Congenial  horrors,  hail !  with  frequent  loot, 
Pleased  have  I,  in  my  cheerful  morn  of  life, 
Wiien  nursed  by  careless  Solitude  I  lived. 
And  sung  of  Nature  with  unceasing  joy, 
Pleased  have  I  vvander'd  throug+i  your  rough  dOBiain; 
Trod  the  pure  virgin-snows,  myself  as  pure; 
Heard  the  winds  roar,  and  the  big  torrent  burst ; 
Or  seen  the  deep-fermeniing  tempest  brev.''d, 
In  the  grim  evening  sky.     Thus  pass'd  the  time, 
Till  through  the  lucid  chambers  of  the  south 
Looked  out  the  joyous  Spring,  look'd  out,  and  smiled. 

To  thee,  the  patron  of  her  first  essay, 
The  Muse,  O  Wilmington  !  renews  he"r  song. 
Since  has  she  rounded  the  revolving  year: 
Skimm'd  the  gay  Spring  ;  on  eagle  pinions  borne, 
Attempted  through  the  Summer-blaze  to  rise; 
Then  swept  o'er  Antunm  with  the  shadowy  gale ; 
And  now  among  the  wintry  clouds  again, 
RoH'd  in  the  doubling  storm,  she  tries  to  soar  ; 
To  sw^ell  her  note  w  ith  all  the  rushing  winds ; 
To  suit  her  sounding  cadence  to  the  floods ; 
^  s  is  her  theme,  her  numbers  wildly  great: 
1  hrice  happy  could  she  fill  thy  jud<ring  ear 
With  bold  description  and  with  manly  thought 
N(.r  art  thou  skill'd  in  awful  schemes  alono, 

I  \  how  to  make  a  miglity  p  .'opic  thrive 


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But  eqiia.1  goodness,  pound  integrity, 
A  Ikni  unsliaken  uncorniptfd  j^oiiI 
Amid  a  sliding  au^e,  and  huniins  strong, 
Not  vainl}'  lilaziim  for  thy  country's  weal, 
A  steady  spirit  lesiularly  free  ; 
These,  each  e.xaliinsr  each,  tlie  statesman  lif,h 
Into  the  pauiot ;  tiiese,  the  pnblic  hope 
And  eye  to  tliee  converting.',  bid  the  Muse 
Record  what  envy  dares  not  tlatter>  call. 

Now  wlv'.n  Ihe  cheerless  empire  of  the  sky 
To  Capricorn  the  ('enraur  Arclier  yields, 
And  tierce  Aquarius  stains  Ih'  inverted  year; 
Hun^  o'er  the  t'urihest  ver^e  of  heaven,  the  sun 
Scarce  spread.■^  through  ether  the  dejected  day. 
Faint  are  his  i^leams,  and  inefTctnai  shoot 
His  struggling  rays,  in  horizontal  lines. 
Through  tlie  thick  air ;  as  do  hed  in  cloudy  storm 
Weak,  wan,  and  broad,  he  skirts  the  southern  skr 
And,  soon  descending,  to  the  long  dark  night. 
Wide  shading  all,  the  prostrate  w c.rld  resigns. 
Nor  is  the  night  unwish'd;  while  vital  heat, 
Light,  life,  and  joy,  the  dubious  day  forsake. 
Meantime,  in  sable  cincture,  shadows  vast, 
Deep-tinged  and  damp,  and  congrf-gated  clouds, 
And  all  the  vapoury  turbulence  of  heaven. 
Involve  Ihe  fa:;e  of  things.     Thus  Winter  ft  is, 
A  heavy  gloom  oppressive  o'er  the  world, 
Throush  Nature  shedding  influence  malign, 
And  rouses  up  the  seeds  of  dark  disease. 
The  soul  of  man  dies  in  him,  loathing  life. 
And  black  with  more  than  melancholy  views. 
The  ca  lie  droop  ;  and  o'er  the  furrow'd  land, 
Fresh  from  the  plough,  the  dun  discolour'd  flocks, 
Untended  spreadiiiu,  crop  the  wholesome  root. 
Alone  the  woods,  along  the  moorish  fens, 
Siirhs  the  sad  Genius  of  the  comi'ig  s-nrm  : 
And  Ui)anionir  the  loosf  disjointed  clitfs, 
And  fractured  mountains  wild,  He  brawling  brook 
And  tavc,  p;esa£<  ful,  send  a  hollow  moan, 
Resoundiuu  lonjr  in  'istcnin<r  Fancy's  enr. 

Tlien  coni'  s  th<.'  father  of  the  temnes'  for'h, 
Wra-)p'd  in  black  glooms.     First  j<n-!Hss  rai'is  obscure 
nri\  e  through  the  mingling  skies  with  vapour  foul  ; 
Dash  on  liie  mounta'r's  brow,  and  shake  the  M'ooda, 
That  grumbling  wave  below.    Th'  unsightly  plain 


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WINTER. 


Lies  a  browti  delude  ;  as  the  low-bent  clouds 

Pour  flood  01  >  flood,  jet  unexhausted  still 

Combine,  and  deepenins  into  night,  shut  up 

The  day's  fair  face.    The  wanderers  of  heaven^ 

Each  to  his  home,  retire ;  save  those  that  love 

To  take  tneir  pasiime  in  the  troubled  air, 

Or  skimming  flutter  round  the  dimply  pool. 

The  cattle  from  th'  untasted  fields  return, 

And  ask,  with  meaning  low,  their  wonted  stalls, 

Or  ruminate  in  the  contiguous  shade. 

Thnher  the  household  featheiy  people  crowd, 

The  crested  cock,  with  all  his  female  train, 

Pensive,  and  dripping  ;  while  the  cottace-hind 

J^angs  o'er  th'  enlivening  blaze,  and  taleful  there 

Recounts  his  simple  frolic  :  much  he  talks. 

And  nuich  he  lausiis,  nor  recks  the  storm  that  blows 

Without,  and  rattles  on  his  humble  rool. 

Wide  o'er  the  brim,  with  many  a  torrent  swe'.l'd, 
And  the  mix'd  ruin  of  its  banks  o'erspread, 
At  last  the  roused-up  river  pours  a'lng  : 
Resistless,  roaring,  dreadful,  down  it  comes, 
From  the  rude  mountain  and  the  mossy  wild, 
Tumbling  throueh  rocks  abrupt,  and  sounding  far, 
Then  o'er  the  sanded  valley  floating  spreads, 
Calm,  sluggish,  silent;  till  again,  constrain'd 
Between  two  meeting  hills,  it  bursts  away. 
Where  rocks  and  woods  o'erhaps  the  tnrb-ld  stream 
There  gathering  triple  force,  rapid  and  deep, 
It  lioiis  and  wheels  and  foams  and  thunders  through 

Nature  !  areat  parent !  whose  unceasing  hand 
Rolls  round  the  Seasons  of  the  changeful  year, 
How  mighty,  how  majestic  are  thy  works  ! 
With  what  a  plea^ng  dread  they  swell  the  soul ! 
That  sees  astonish'd!  and  astonish'd  sir>gs! 
Ye  too,  ye  winds!  that  now  begin  to  blow 
With  boisterous  sweep,  I  raise  my  voice  tc  you. 
Where  are  your  stores,  ye  powerful  beings  1  say, 
Where  your  aerial  magazines  reserved, 
I'o  swell  the  brooding  terrors  of  the  storm  ? 
In  what  far  distant  redon  of  the  sky 
Hush'd  in  deep  silence,  sleep  ye  when   tis  calm? 

Wiieu  from  the  pallid  sky  the  sun  descends, 
I  With  in^ny  a  spot,  that  o'er  his  ^larins  orb 
Uncertam  wanders,  stain'd  ;  red  fiery  streaks 
Begin  to  flush  around,    "^he  reeling  clouds 


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WINTER. 

Stagger  with  dizzy  poise,  as  doubtiig  yet 
Wliich  master  to  obey  :  while  rising  slow, 
Blank,  in  the  leaden-colour'd  east,  the  moon 
Wears  a  wan  circle  round  her  blunted  horns. 
Seen  through  the  turbid  fluctuating  air, 
The  stars  obtuse  emit  a  shiver'd  ray  ; 
Or  frequent  seem  to  shoot  athwart  tlie  gloom, 
And  Img  behind  them  trail  the  whitening  blaze. 
Snatch'd  in  short  eddies,  plays  the  wither'd  leaf: 
And  on  tile  flood  the  dancing  feather  floats. 
With  broaden'd  nostrils  to  the  sky  upturn'd, 
The  conscious  heifer  snufls  the  stormy  gale. 
E'en  as  the  matron,  at  her  nightly  task," 
With  pensive  labour  draws  the  flaxen  thread, 
The  wasted  taper  and  the  crackling  flame 
Foretell  the  blast.    But  chief  the  plumy  race. 
The  tenants  of  the  sky,  its  changes  speak. 
Retiring  from  the  downs,  where  all  day  long 
They  pick'd  their  scanty  fare,  a  blackening  train 
Of  clamorous  rooks  thick  urge  their  weary  flight, 
And  seek  the  closing  shelter  of  the  grove  ' 
Assiduou.-,  in  his  bower,  the  wailing  owi 
Plies  his  sad  song.    The  cormorant  on  high 
Wlieels  from  the  deep,  and  screams  along  the  land. 
Loud  shrieks  the  soaring  hern  ;  and  with  wild  wing 
The  circling  seafowl  cleave  the  flaky  clouds. 
Ocean,  unequal  press'd,  with  broken  tide 
And  blind  cuinmotion  heaves ;  while  from  the  shore. 
Eat  into  caverns  by  the  restless  wave. 
And  forest-rustling  mountain,  comes  a  voice, 
Tliat  solenm  sounding  bids  the  world  prepare. 
Then  issues  forth  the  storm  with  sudden  burst, 
And  hurls  the  whole  precipitated  air 
Down  in  a  torrent.     On  the  passive  main 
Descends  th'  ethereal  force,  and  with  strong  gust 
Turns  from  its  bottom  the  discolour'd  deep. 
Through  the  black  night  that  sits  immense  around, 
Lash'd  into  foam,  the  fierce  conflicting  brine 
Seems  o'er  a  tliousand  raging  waves  to  burn: 
Meantime  the  mountain  billows,  to  the  clouds 
In  dreadful  tumult  swell'd,  surge  above  surge, 
Burst  into  chaos  with  tremendous  roar, 
And  anchor'd  navies  from  their  stations  drive, 
Wild  as  Ih  ;  winds  across  the  howling  waste 
mighty  .vaters  :  now  th'  inlat^d  wave 


Strainin?  they  scale,  and  now  impetuous  shoot 

Into  the  secret  chambers  of  tlie  deep, 

Tiie  wintry  Baltic  thundering  o'er  their  head. 

Kmerqfing  thence  acain,  before  tlie  breatli 

Of  fiill-exerted  heaven  tiiey  wing  their  course, 

And  dart  on  distant  coasts  :  if  some  sharp  rock 

Or  shoal  insidious  break  not  their  cart^er, 

And  in  loose  frajmems  fling  them  floating  round. 

Nnr  less  at  hand  the  ioosen'd  tempest  reigns. 
The  mountain  thunders;  and  its  sturdy  sons 
t-foop  to  tiie  bottom  of  the  rocks  they  shade. 
Ijone  on  the  midnight  steep,  and  al!  aghast, 
'Die  dark  wayfaring  stranger  breathless  toils, 
And,  often  falling,  climbs  against  the  blast. 
Low  waves  the  rooted  forest,  vex'd,  and  sheds 
What  of  its  tarnish'd  honours  yet  remain  ; 
Dash'd  down,  and  scatter' d,  by  the  tearing  wind's 
Assiduous  fury,  its  gigantic  limbs. 
Thus  struggliiig  through  the  dissipated  grove, 
The  whirling  tempest  raves  alon2  the  plain  ; 
And  on  the  cottage  thatch'd,  or  lordly  roof, 
Keen-fastening,  shakes  them  to  the  solid  base. 
Sleep  frighted  flies  ;  and  round  the  rocking  dome, 
For  entrance  eager  howls  the  savage  blast. 
Thf-n  too,  they  say,  through  al  the  burden'd  air, 
Long  groans  are  lieard,  shrill  sounds,  and  distant  sighs, 
That,  utter'd  by  the  Demon  of  the  night, 
iVarn  the  devoted  wretch  of  wo  and  death. 

Huge  uproar  lords  it  wide.    The  clouds  commix'd 
With  stars  swift  gliding  >weep  along  the  sky 
All  nature  reels.    Till  nature's  King,  who  oft 
Amid  tempestuous  darkness  dwells  alone. 
And  on  the  wings  of  the  careering  wind 
Walks  dreadfidly  serene,  commands  a  calm  ; 
Then  straight,  air,  sea,  and  earth,  are  hush'd  at  once 

As  yet  'tis  midnig'n  deep.     The  weary  clouds, 
Slow  niefting,  mingle  into  solid  gloom. 
Xow,  while  the  drowsy  world  lies  lo^t  in  sleep, 
hH  me  associati-  with  the  serious  Night, 
And  contemplation,  her  sed^iie  compeer  ; 
I,et  me  shake  ofTth'  i'trusive  cares  of  day, 
And  lay  the  m  d  lling  senses  all  aside. 
i-      VVhe/e  now,  ye  living  vanities  of  life  I 
i^i,  \  Y'?  ever  temping,  ever  cheating  train ! 
^    Vv  he.e  a/e  yea  now  ?  and  wliat  is  your  amount  1 


WINTER. 


Vexation,  disappoininient,  and  remorse; 

Sad,  sickening  thought !  and  yet,  dehidt.1  man, 

A  scene  of  crude  disjointed  visions  past, 

And  broken  slumbers,  rises  stiH  resolved. 

With  !iew-fliish'd  hopes,  to  run  the  giddy  round. 

Father  of  light  and  life !  thou  Good  supreme  \ 
O  teach  me  what  is  good  :  teach  me  Thyself! 
Save  me  from  folly,  vaniiy,  and  vice, 
From  every  low  pursuit!  and  feed  my  soul 
With  knowledge,  conscious  peace,  and  virtue  pure* 
Sa.cied,  substantial,  never  fading  bliss! 

The  keener  tempests  rise :  and  fuming  dun 
From  all  the  livid  east  or  piercing  north, 
Tiiicli  clouds  ascend ;  in  wliose  capacious  womb 
A  vaj)oury  deluge  lies,  to  snow  congeal'd. 
Heavy  they  roll  their  fleecy  v.-orld  along ; 
And  *lie  sky  saddens  witli  the  gather'd  storm. 
Through  the  hush'd  air  the  whitening  shower  descends 
At  first  tliin  wavering;  till  at  last  the  fiakes 
Fall  broad  and  wide  and  fast,  dimming  the  day, 
With  a  continual  flow.     The  cherish'd  fields 
Put  on  their  winter  robe  of  purest  white. 

'T's  brightness  all:  save  where  the  new  snow  melu 
Along  the  mazy  current.     Low  the  woods 
"ow  their  hoar  head;  and  ere  the  languid  sun 
Faint  from  the  west  emits  his  evetiing  ray, 
Eartli's  universal  face,  deep  hid,  and  chijl, 
Is  one  wild  dazzling  waste,  that  buries  wide 
The  works  of  man.     Drooping,  the  labourer  ox 
Stands  cover'd  o'er  with  snow,  and  then  demands 
The  fruit  of  all  his  toil.    Tlie  fowls  of  neaven, 
Tamed  by  the  cruel  season,  crowd  around 
The  winnowiig  store,  and  claim  the  little  boon 
Which  Providence  assigns  them.     One  alone, 
The  redbreast,  sacred  to  the  houseiiold  gods, 
Wisely  n  rardfiil  of  th'  embroiling  sky, 
In  joylesr  fields  and  thorny  tliickets  leaves 
His  si'iveiing  mates,  and  pays  to  trusted  man 
Kis  annual  \»i-it.     Half  afraid,  he  first 
/^2ainst  ihe  window  beats:  then,  brisk,  alights 
On  the  warm  hearth  :  then,  hopping  o'er  the  floor, 
Eyes  all  the  smiling  family  askance, 
Aiiii  |)e.'ks  ami  starts  andwotiders  where  he  is; 
Till  more  familiar  grown,  the  la!>'e:cr  nibs 
Attract  his  slender  feet.    The  foodless  wilds 


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WINTER 


Pour  forth  tlieir  brown  iiihabisants.    Tlie  h? 
Tlioii^ii  timorous  of  heart,  and  hard  beset 
B\'  death  in  various  forms,  dark  snares,  and  dogs, 
And  more  unpitying  men,  /he  garden  sfeks, 
Urged  on  by  fearless  want      Tlie  bleating  kind 
Eye  the  bleak  heaven,  and  next  the  ^listening  eartli, 
VVith  looks  of  dumb  despair;  llien,  sad  dispersed, 
Dig  for  the  wither'd  herb  ihroiitjh  heaps  of  snow. 

A'ow,  shepherds,  to  your  helpless  charge  be  kind 
Baffle  the  raging  year,  and  fill  liieir  pt>ns 
With  food  at  will ;  lodge  them  below  the  storm, 
And  watch  them  stn  ;t ;  for  fiom  the  bellowing  east. 
In  this  dire  season,  oft  the  wliir!wii:d's  wing 
Sweeps  up  the  buiden  of  whole  wintry  plains 
At  one  wide  waft,  and  o'er  the  hapiets  flocks, 
Hid  in  the  hollow  of  two  neighbouring  hills 
The  billowy  tempest  whelms  ;  till,  upward  urged 
The  valley  to  a  shining  mountain  swells, 
Tipp'd  whli  a  wreath  high-curling  in  tlie  sky. 

As  thus  the  snows  arise  ;  and,  foul  and  fierce, 
All  Winter  drives  along  the  darken'd  air ; 
In  his  own  loofc-revoiiing  fields,  the  swain 
Disasfer'd  stands  ;  sees  other  hills  ascend, 
Of  unknown  joyless  brow  ;  and  other  scenes, 
Of  horrid  prospect,  shag  the  trackless  plain  • 
Xor  finds  the  river,  nor  the  forest,  hid 
Beneath  the  formless  wild  ;  but  wanders  on 
From  hill  to  dale,  still  more  and  more  astray  ; 
Impatient  flouncing  through  the  drifted  heaps, 
Ptung  with  the  thoughts  of  home ;  the  thoughts  of  hosnfl 
Rush  on  his  nerves,  and  call  their  vigour  forth 
In  many  a  vain  attempt.     How  sinks  hi^  soul ! 
What  black  despair,  what  Jiorror  fills  his  heart! 
When  for  the  dusky  spot,  which  fancy  feign'd 
His  tufted  cdttage  rising  through  the  snow, 
Tie  meets  tlie  roughness  of  the  middle  waste. 
Far  from  the  track  and  bless'd  abode  of  man! 
While  round  him  nijrht  resistless  cloees  fast. 
And  every  tempest,  howling  o'er  his  head, 
Renders  the  savage  wilderr.ess  more  wild. 
Then  throng  the  busy  shap'^s  into  his  mind 
Of  cover'd  pi's,  unfathomably  dt-ep, 
A  dire  descent  I  beyond  !he  power  of  frost; 
Of  fai;hless  bogs  ;  of  precipices  liuee, 
Smooth'd  up  with  ajow  ;  a/id,  wliat  is  land,  unknown, 


pA^ 


What  water,  of  the  stil!  unfrozen  sprln-j, 
[m  the  loo<e  marsh  or  solitary  lake, 
VViiere  the  fresh  fountain  from  the  bottom  boila. 
Tiiese  cliecli  his  fearful  stops  :  and  dou^n  he  sinks 
B"ii(  ath  the  shelter  of  the  shapeless  drift ; 
TInnkinz  o'er  all  the  bitterness  of  death, 
Mix'd  '.vith  the  tender  anguish  Nature  shoots 
Thro(i2h  the  wrung  bosom  of  the  dying  man, 
His  wife,  his  children,  a:id  his  friends  unseen. 
In  vain  ibr  him  th'  otTicious  wife  prepares 
The  tire  fair  blazing  aud  the  vestment  warm  ; 
In  vain  Ills  little  children,  peeping  out 
Into  the  minslina  s'.orm,  denimd  their  sire, 
With  tears  of  artless  innocence.     Alas  ! 
Xor  wife  nor  children  "more  shall  he  beheld. 
Nor  friends  nor  sacred  home.    On  every  nerve 
The  doadh'  winter  seizes  ;  shuts  up  sense ; 
And,  o'er  his  inmost  viials  creeping  coid, 
Lays  him  along  the  snows,  a  stiffen'd  corse, 
Stretch'd  out,  and  bleaching  in  the  northern  blast- 

Ah  '.  little  think  the  gay  licentious  proud, 
Whom  pleasure,  power,"and  affluence  surround  • 
They  who  thnr  thoughtless  hours  in  giddy  mirth 
And  wanton,  often  cruel,  riot  waste  ; 
Ah:  little  think  they,  while  they  dance  along. 
How  many  fee!,  this  v';ry  moment,  death, 
And  all  the  sad  variety  of  pain. 
How  many  sink  in  the  devourins  flood. 
Or  more  devouring  flame.     How  many  bleed, 
By  shameful  variance  betwixt  man  and  man. 
How  many  pine  in  wan;  and  dungeon  glooms ; 
S!uit  from  the  common  air  and  c^immon  use 
Of  their  own  limbs.     How  ntany  drink  the  cup 
Of  baleful  grief,  or  eat  the  bitter  bread 
Of  misery.     Sore  pierced  by  wintry  winds, 
How  many  shrink  into  the  sordid  hut 
Of  cheerless  poverty.     How  many  shake 
With  all  the  fiercer  tortures  of  the  mind. 
Unbounded  passion,  madness,  guilt,  remorse  ; 
Whence  tumbled  headlong  from  the  height  of  life, 
They  furnish  matter  for  the  tragic  Muse. 
Fi'eu  in  the  vale,  where  Wisdom  loves  to  iwelJ, 
With  friendship,  peace,  and  contemplatioti  join'd, 
Hew  many,  ra-k'd  with  honest  passion^,  droop 
In  Jeep  retired  distress.     How  ni my  siand 


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WINTER. 

Around  the  rfeathbed  of  their  dearest  friends, 
And  point  the  parting  anguish.    Tliought  fond  Man 
Of  these,  and  all  the  thousand  nameless  ills, 
That  one  incessant  strusgle  render  life. 
One  scene  of  toil,  of  suffering,  and  of  fate, 
Vice  in  his  high  career  would  stand  appall'd, 
And  heedless  rambling  Impulse  learu  to  think  ; 
The  conscious  heart  of  Charity  would  warm, 
And  her  wide  wish  Benevolence  dilate  ; 
The  social  tear  would  rise,  the  social  sigh  ; 
And  into  clear  perfection,  gradual  bliss, 
lefining  still,  the  social  passions  work. 

And  liere  can  I  forget  the  generous  band,* 
Who,  touch'd  with  human  wo,  redressive  search'd 
Into  tlie  horrors  of  the  gloomy  jail  ? 
Unpitied  and  unheard,  where  misery  moans  ; 
Where  sickness  pines  ;  where  thirst  and  hunger  burn, 
And  poor  misfortune  feels  the  lash  of  vice. 
While  in  the  land  of  Liberty,  the  land 
Whose  every  street  and  public  meeting  glow 
With  open  freedom,  little  tyrants  raged  ; 
Snatch'd  the  lean  morsel  from  the  starving  mouth 
Fore  from  cold  w  intry  lunbs  the  tatter'd  weed ; 
E'en  robb'd  them  of  the  last  of  comforts,  sleep; 
The  freeborn  Briton  to  the  dungeon  chain'd, 
Or,  as  the  lust  of  cruelty  prevail'd. 
At  pleasure  mark'd  him  with  itislorious  stripe?  ; 
And  crush'd  out  lives,  by  secret  barbarous  ways, 
That  for  tlieir  country  would  have  toil'd  or  bied. 
O  great  design  !  if  executed  well. 
With  patient  care  and  wisdom-temper'd  zeal. 
Ye  sons  of  Mercy  :  yet  resume  the  search  ; 
Drag  forth  the  legafmonsters  into  light, 
Wrench  from  their  hands  Oppression's  iron  rod, 
And  bid  the  cruel  feel  the  pains  they  give. 
Much  still  untourh'd  remains  ;  in  this  rank  age, 
Much  is  the  patriot's  weeding  hand  required. 
The  toils  of  law  (what  dark  insidious  men 
Have  cumbrous  added  to  preplex  the  truth. 
And  lenghten  simple  justice  into  trade) 
How  glorious  were  the  day !  that  saw  these  broke 
And  every  man  within  the  reach  of  right. 

By  wintry  famine  roused,  from  all  the  tract 


The  Jail  Committee,  in  the  year  1729. 


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Of  horrid  mountains  which  the  shining  Alp* 

And  wavy  Apennine  and  Pyreneas 

Branc*!  out  stupend  ms  into  distant  lands  ; 

Cruel  as  deaih  and  hungry  as  the  crave  I 

Burning  for  blood  1  bonj'  and  gaunt  and  grim  I 

Assembling  wolves  in  raging  troops  descend  ; 

And,  pourinir  o'er  the  country,  bear  along, 

Keen  as  the  north  wind  sweeps  the  glossy  snow 

All  is  their  prize.    They  .•'asten  on  the  steed, 

Press  him  to  earth,  and  pierce  his  miahty  heart 

Nor  can  the  bu41  his  awful  front  defend, 

Or  sliake  the  murdering  savages  away. 

Rapacious,  at  the  mother's  throat  they  fly. 

And  tear  the  screaming  infant  from  her  breast. 

The  godlike  face  of  man  avails  him  naiisht. 

E'en  beauty,  force  divine  !  at  whose  bright  glam* 

The  generous  Hon  stands  in  soften'd  gaze. 

Here  bleeds,  a  hapless  undistinguish'd  prey. 

But  if,  ai)prized  of  the  severe  attack. 

The  country  be  shut  up,  lured  by  the  scent, 

On  churchyards  drear    inhuman  to  relate  '.) 

The  disappointed  prowlers  fall  and  dig 

The  shrouded  body  from  the  grave  ;  o'er  which, 

Mix'd  with  foul  shades  and  frighted  ghosts,  they  how* 

Among  those  hilly  regions,  where  embraced 
[n  peaceful  vales  the  happy  Grisons  dwell  ; 
Oft  rushing  sudden  from  the  loaded  cliffs, 
Mountains  of  snow  their  gathering  terrors  roll. 
From  steep  to  steep  loud-thundering  down  they  c<*me, 
A  wintry  Waste  in  dire  commotion  all ; 
And  herds,  and  flocks,  and  travellers,  and  swains, 
And  someti.-nes  whole  brigades  of  marching  troops, 
Or  hamlets  sleeping  in  the  dead  of  night, 
Are  deep  beneath  the  smothering  ruin  whelrn'd. 
Now,  all  amid  the  ricours  of  the  year. 
In  the  wild  depth  of  Winte?,  while  without 
The  ceaseless  winds  blow  ice,  be  my  retreat 
Betwet-n  the  groaning  forest  a-'d  the  sliore 
Beat  by  the  boundless  multitudes  of  waves, 
A  rural,  shelter'd,  solitary  scene; 
Where  ruddy  fire  and  beaming  tapers  join, 
To  cheer  the  gloom.     There  studious  let  me  sit 
And  no!d  Inzh  converse  vith  the  niishty  Dead, 
8age«  of  ancient  time,  as  gods  revered, 
Ae  gods  beneficent,  who  bless'd  raaiikii)^ 


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With  arts,  wfth  anns,  and  humanized  a  world. 
Routed  at  th'  inspiring  thought,  I  throw  aside 
The  long-lived  volume;  and^ deep-musing,  hail 
The  sacred  shades,  that  slowly-rising  pass 
Before  my  wondering  eyes.     First  Socrates, 
Who,  firmly  good  in  a  corrupted  slate, 
Against  the  rage  of  tyrants  single  stood, 
Invincible!  calm  Reason's  holy  law. 
That  voice  of  God  within  th'  attentive  mind, 
Obeying,  fearless,  or  in  life  or  death: 
Great  moral  teacher!  Wisest  of  mankind  ! 
Solon  the  next,  who  built  his  commonweal 
On  equity's  wide  base  ,  by  tender  laws 
A  lively  {»rople  curbing,  yet  undamp'd 
Preserviii<;  still  that  quick  peculiar  fire. 
Whence  in  the  laurel'd  tield  of  finer  arts. 
And  ot'bold  freedom,  they  uncquali'd  shone. 
The  pride  of  smiling  Greece  and  humankind. 
Lycurgus  then,  who  bow'd  beneath  the  force 
Of  strictest  discipline,  severely  wise. 
All  human  passions.     Following  him,  I  see, 
As  at  Thermopylis  he  clorious  fell,' 
The  firm  devoted  chief,*  who  proved  by  deeds 
The  hardest  lesson  which  the  other  taught. 
Then  Aristides  lifts  his  honest  front ; 
Spotless  of  heart,  to  whom  th'  unflattering  voice 
Of  freedom  gave  the  noblest  nanse  of  Just; 
In  pure  majestic  poverty  revered : 
Who,  e'en  his  glory  to  his  country's  weal 
Submitting,  swell'd  a  haughty  Rival's!  fame. 
Rtar'd  by  his  care,  of  softer  ray  appears 
C'iiiion  sweet-soul'd  ;  whose  genius,  rising  strong, 
Shook  off  the  load  of  young  debauch  ;  abroad 
The  scource  of  Persian  pride,  at  home  the  friend 
Of  every  worth  and  every  splendid  art ; 
Modest  and  simple,  in  the  pomp  of  wealth. 
Then  ihp  last  worthies  of  declinins  Greece, 
Late  caird  to  glory,  in  unequal  rimes. 
Pensive  appear.     The  fair  Corinthian  boast, 
Timolcon,  happy  temper!  mild  and  firm. 
Who  wept  the  brother  while  the  tyrant  bled. 
And,  equal  to  the  best,  the  Theban  Pair,i 

*  Leoiiidas.  f  Themistocles. 

+  Pefopidas  and  Epaminondas 


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Whose  virtues,  in  heroic  concord  join'd, 

Their  country  raised  to  freedom,  empire,  fame. 

He  too,  with  whom  Athenian  honour  sunk, 

And  left  a  m.iss  of  sordid  lees  behind, 

Phocion  the  Good  ;  in  public  life  severe, 

To  virtue  still  inexorably  tirm  ; 

But  when,  beneath  his  low  illustrious  roof, 

Sweet  peace  and  happy  wisdom  smooth'd  his  broWt 

Not  friendship  softer  was,  nor  love  more  kind 

And  he,  the  last  of  old  Lycurgus'  sons, 

The  geiierous  victim  to  that  vain  attempt, 

To  save  a  rotten  state,  Agis,  who  saw 

E'en  Sparta's  self  to  servile  avarice  sunk. 

The  two  Achaian  heroes  close  the  train : 

Aratus,  who  a  while  relumed  the  soul 

Of  fondly  lingering  liberty  in  Greece  ; 

And  he,  her  darling  as  her  latest  hope. 

The  gallant  Philopoemen  ;  who  to  arms 

Turn'd  the  luxurious  pomp  he  could  not  cure; 

Or  toiling  in  his  farm,  a  simple  swain  ; 

Or,  bold  and  skilful,  thundering  in  the  field. 

Of  rougher  front,  a  mighty  people  come! 
A  race  of  heroes!  in  those  virtuous  limes 
Which  knew  no  stain,  save  that  with  partial  flame 
Their  dearest  country  they  too  fondly  loved  : 
Her  better  Founder  first,  the  light  of  Rome, 
Numa,  who  soften'd  her  ra  jaeious  sons : 
Servius  the  king,  who  laid  the  solid  base 
On  which  o'er  earth  the  vast  republic  spread- 
Then  the  great  consuls  venerable  rise. 
The  public  Father*  who  the  private  (luell'd, 
As  on  the  dread  tribunal  sternly  sad 
He  whom  his  thankless  country  could  not  lose, 
Camillus,  only  vengeful  to  her  foes. 
Fabricius,  scorner  of  all-conquerins:  gold  ; 
And  Cincinnatus,  awful  from  the  plough. 
Thy  willing  victim.^t  Cartilage,  bursting  loose 
From  all  that  pleading  Nature  could  oppose, 
From  a  whole  city's  tears,  by  rigid  faith 
Imperious  calfd,  and  honour's  dire  command. 
Scipio,  the  gentle  chief,  humanely  brave, 
Who  soon  the  race  of  spotless  glory  ran. 
And,  warm  in  youth,  to  the  poetic  shade 


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.VVith  Fiiendship  and  PhiIosopli,y  retired. 
Tully,  whose  powerful  eloquence  a  while 
Restrain'd  the  rapid  late  of  rushing  Rome. 
Uiiconquer'd  Cato,  virtuous  in  extreiiie  : 
And  thou,  unhappy  Brutus,  kind  of  iieart, 
Whose  steady  ami,  by  awful  virtue  urged, 
Lifted  the  Roman  sleel  against  thy  friend. 
Tliousands  besides  the  tribute  of  a  verse 
Demand  ;  but  who  can  count  the  stars  of  heaven? 
Who  sing  their  influence  on  this  lower  world  ? 

Behold,  who  yonder  comes  !  in  sober  state, 
Fair,  mild,  and  strong,  as  is  a  vernal  sun : 
'Tis  Ph(Ebu.s'  self,  or  else  the  Mantuan  Swain  ! 
Great  Homer  too  appears,  of  dariiig  wing, 
Parent  of  song!  and,  equal  by  his  side. 
The  British  Mu&e :  join'd  hand  in  hand  they  walk, 
Darkling,  full  up  tlie  middle  steep  to  fame. 
Nor  absent  are  those  shades,  whose  skiiful  touch 
Pathetic  drew  th'  impassion'd  iieart,  and  eharrn'd.. 
Transported  Athens  with  the  nioral  scene  ; 
Nor  those  who,  tuneful,  waked  th'  enchanted  lyre. 

First  of  your  kind  !  society  divine  ! 
Still  visit  thus  my  nights,  for  you  reserved, 
And  mount  my  soaring  soul  to  thouglits  like  yours. 
Silence,  thou  lonely  power  I  the  door  be  thine; 
See  on  the  hallow'd  hour  that  none  inirude, 
Save  a  few  chosen  friends,  who  sometimes  deign 
To.  bless  my  humble  roof,  with  sense  refined, 
Learning  digested  well,  exalted  faith, 
Unstudied  wit,  and  humour  ever  gay. 
Or  from  the  Muses'  hiH  will  Pope  descend, 
To  raise  the  sacred  hour,  to  bid  it  smile. 
And  witli  the  social  spirit  warm  the  heart? 
For  though  not  sweeter  his  own  H:)mer  sings, 
Yet  is  his  lifo  'Oe  more  endearing  song. 

Where  art  tha:,  Hammond?  thou,  the  darling  pride. 
The  friend  and  lover  of  the  tuneful  throng  ! 
Ah  why,  dear  youth,  in  all  the  blooming  prime 
Of  vernal  genius,  where  disclosing  fast 
Each  active  worth,  each  manly  virtue  lay. 
Why  wert  thou  ravi^h'd  from  our  hope  so  soon? 
What  now  avails  that  noble  thirst  of  fame 
Which  stung  thy  fervent  breast  ?  that  treasured  store 
Of  knowledge,  early  gain'd?  that  eau'er  xeal 
To  serve  thy  country,  glowing  in  the  band 


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■<VINTER. 

Ofyouthflil  patriots,  who  sustain  hei  name? 
What  now,  alas  !  that  life  diffusing  ciiarm 
Of  sprightly  wit  ?  that  rapture  for  !he  Muse, 
That  heartof  friend-hip,  and  that  soul  of  joy. 
Which  bade  with<oftest  l^eht  ihy  virtues  smile? 
Ah  !  only  sliowed  to  check  our  fond  pursuits, 
And  teach  our  humble  hopes  that  life  is  vain  ! 
Thus  in  some  deep  retirement  would  I  pass 
The  winter  glooms,  with  friends  of  pliant  soul. 
Or  blithe  or  solemn,  as  the  theme  mspired: 
With  them  would  search,  if  Nature's  boundless  frame 
Was  cali'd,  late-rising  from  the  void  of  night, 
Or  sprung  eternal  from  th'  Eternal  .Mind  , 
Its  life,  its  laws,  its  progress,  and  its  end. 
Hence  larger  prospects  of  the  beauteous  wliole 
Would,  gradual,  open  on  our  opening  minds; 
And  each  diffusive  harmony  unite 
In  full  perfection,  to  th'  astouish'd  eye. 
Then  would  we  try  to  scan  the  mrral  world, 
{■^^  Which,  though  to  us  it  seems  embroil'd.  move?  or 

In  hislier  oider;  fitted  and  impcll'd 
Bj  W^isdom's  finest  hand,  and  issrins  all 
In  eeneral  good.     Tne  sate  historic  Muse 
Should  next  conduct  «..  Jirough  the  deeps  of  time  ■ 
Show  us  how  empire  srew,  decllnf^d,  and  fell. 
In  scatier'd  sates;  what  makes  the  nations  smile, 
Improves  their  soil,  and  gives  them  double  suns  ; 
And  why  they  pine  beneath  the  brightest  skies, 
In  Nature's  richest  lap.     As  thus  we  talk'd. 
Our  hearts  would  burn  within  us,  would  inhale 
That  portion  of  divinity,  that  ray 
Of  purest  heaven,  which  lights  the  public  soul 
Of  patriots  and  of  heroes.     But  if  doom'd, 
In  powerless  humble  fortune,  to  repress 
These  ardent  risinsrs  of  the  kindling  soul ; 
Then,  even  superior  to  ambition,  we 
Would  learn  the  private  virtue.s;  how  to  j,Iide 
Through  shades  and  plains,  alons  '.he  smoothest  stream 
Of  rural  life  :  or  snatch'd  awiiy  by  hope, 
Through  the  dim  spaces  of  fulnrit}', 
With  earnest  eye  anticipate  those  scenes 
Of  happiness  and  wonder  :  where  the  mind, 
In  endless  growth  and  infinite  ascent. 
Rises  from  state  to  slate,  and  worM  to  world. 
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WINTER. 

We,  shifting  for  relief,  would  play  the  shaped 
Of  frolic  fancy  ;  and  incesf5anl  form 
Those  rapid  pictures,  that  assembled  train 
Of  fleet  ideas,  never  joiii'd  before; 
Whence  lively  Wit  excitts  to  pay  surprise 
Or  folly-pairitin<:  lUnnnur,  srave  himself, 
Calls  Laughter  forth,  deep->hakiner  every  nerve. 

Mt^antinie  the  village  rouses  up  the  fire; 
While  well  attested,  and  as  well  believed, 
Heard  soli  mn,  goes  the  goblin  story  round  ; 
Till  superstitious  horror  creeps  o'er  all. 
Or,  frequent  in  the  sounding  hall,  they  wake 
The  rural  gn-.nbol.     Rustic  mirth  goes  round ; 
The  simple  jok^-  that  takes  the  shepherd's  heart, 
Easily  pleased  :  the  long  loud  laugh  sincere  ; 
The  kiss,  snatch'd  hasty  from  the  sidelong  maid, 
On  p?irpo>e  <riiard!ess  or  pretending  sleep  : 
The  leap,  the  slap,  the  haul  ;  and,  shook  to  notes 
Of  native  music,  the  respondent  dance. 
ThiiS  jocund  tlei-ts  with  them  the  winter  night. 

The  ci'v  swarms  intense.    The  public  haunt, 
Fill!  of  eacli  theme  afid  warm  with  mix'd  discourae, 
Hums  tndistiiicf.    The  s(ms  of  riot  flow 
Town  the  loose  stream  of  false  enchanted  joy. 
To  swifi  destruction.     On  the  rankled  soul 
f  he  earning  fury  falls  ;  and  in  one  gulf 
Of  tota;  ruin,  honour,  virtue,  peace. 
Friends,  families,  and  fortune,  headlong  sink. 
T'pspringt:  i\\e  dance  along  the  lighted  dome, 
Mix'd  a-id  evolved,  a  thousand  sprightly  ways. 
The  glittering  court  efluses  every  pomp; 
The  circle  deepens  :  beam'd  from  gaudy  robes, 
Tapers,  and  sparkling  gems,  -aiA  radiant  eyes, 
A  soft  effulgence  o'er  the  jialace  waves  . 
While,  a  gay  j-nsecl  in  his  summer  shine. 
The  fop,  liirht  fluttering,  spreads  his  mealy  wing?. 

Dread  o'er  the  scene,  the  ghost  of  Hamlet  stalks 
Othello  rases  ;  poor  Moniniia mourns; 
And  Belvidera  pours  lier  sou!  in  love. 
Terror  alarms  the  breast ;  the  comely  tea? 
Steals  o'er  the  cheek  :  or  else  the  Ci'mic  Muse 
Holds  to  tlie  world  a  picture  ol'  itself. 
And  raises  sly  the  fair  impartial  laugh. 
Piimetimes  she  lifts  her  strain,  and  paints  the  scenes 
Of  beauteous  life ,  whate'er  can  deck  mankiod. 


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136  WINTER. 

Or  charm  the  heart,  in  generous  Bevil*  show'd. 

O  Thou,  whose  wisdom  solid  yet  refined, 
Whose  patriot  virtues,  and  consummate  skill 
I'o  touch  the  finer  springs  that  move  the  world, 
Join'd  to  whate'er  tlie  graces  can  bestow, 
And  all  Apollo's  animating  fire, 
Give  thee,  with  pleasing  diu'nity,  to  shine 
At  once  the  guardian,  ornament,  and  joy 
Of  polish'd  life  ;  permit  the  rural  Muse, 

0  Chesterfield,  to  grace  with  thee  her  song ! 
Ere  to  the  shades  again  she  humbly  flies, 
Indulge  her  foad  ambition  in  thy  train 
(For  every  Muse  has  in  thy  train  a  place), 
'I'o  mark  thy  various  full-accomplish'd  mind: 
To  mark  that  spirit,  which,  vvitli  British  scorn, 
Rejects  th'  allurements  of  corrupted  power; 
Thai  elegant  politeness,  which  excels, 

E'en  in  the  judgment  of  presumptuous  France, 
The  boasied  manners  of  her  shining  court ; 

1  hat  wit,  the  vivid  energy  of  sense. 

The  truth  of  Nature,  which  with  Attic  point 
And  kind  well  teniper'd  satire,  smoothly  keen, 
S'.eals  through  th;^  soul,  and  without  pain  corrects. 
Or  rising  thence  with  yet  a  brishter  flame, 
(>  let  me  hail  thre  on  some  glorious  day. 
When  to  the  listening  senate,  ardfnt,  crowd 
Britannia's  sons  to  hear  her  pleaded  cause. 
Then  dress'd  by  thee,  more  amiably  fair, 
Truth  the  soft  robe  of  mild  persuasMn  wears: 
Thou  to  assentiuii  reason  givest  again 
Her  own  enlighten'd  thoughts  ;  call'd  from  the  heart 
Th'  obedient  passions  on  thy  voice  attend  ; 
And  e'en  relmtant  party  feels  a  while 
Thy  gracious  power :  as  through  the  varied  maze 
Of  eloquence,  now  smooth,  now  quick,  now  strong, 
Profound,  and  claar,  you  roll  the  copious  flood. 
To  thy  \nvfd  haunt  return,  my  happy  Muse: 
For  now,  behold,  the  joyous  winter  days. 
Frosty,  succeed ;  and  ihrough  the  blue  serene, 
For  --iiht  too  fine,  th'  ethereal  nitre  flies; 
Kilii.'ig  infectious  damps,  and  the  spent  air 
Storing  afresh  witli  elemental  life. 


4^ 


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WINTER. 


Close  crowds  the  shii)ing  atmosphere;  and  binds 

Our  strengthen'd  bodies  in  its  cold  embrace, 

Constringent ;  feeds,  and  animates  our  blood ; 

Refines  our  spirits,  through  the  new-strung  nerves. 

In  swifter  sallies  darting  to  the  brain  ; 

Where  sits  the  soul,  intense,  collected,  cool, 

Bright  as  the  skies,  and  as  the  season  k'feen. 

All  Nature  feels  the  renovating  force 

Of  Winter,  only  to  the  thoughless  ej'e 

In  ruin  seen.     The  frost-concocted  glebe 

Draws  in  abundant  vegetable  soul, 

And  gathers  vigour  for  the  coming  year. 

A  stronger  glow  sits  on  the  lively  cheek 

Of  ruddy  fire  ;  and  hiculent  along 

The  purer  rivers  flow  ;  the  sullen  deeps, 

Transparent,  open  lo  the  shepherd's  gaze, 

And  murmur  hoarser  at  the  fixing  frost. 

What  art  thou,  frost  1  and  whence  are  thy  keen  storw 
Derived,  thou  secret  all-invading  power, 
Whom  even  the  illusive  fluid  cannot  fly  1 
Is  not  thy  .potent  energy,  unseen. 
Myriads  of  little  salts,  or  hook'd,  or  shaped 
Like  double  wedges,  and  diff'used  immense 
Through  water,  earth,  and  ether  1  hence  at  eve, 
Steam'd  eager  from  the  red  horizon  round, 
With  the  fierce  rage  of  Winter  deep  sulfused, 
An  icy  gale,  oft  shifting,  o'er  the  pool 
Breathes  a  blue  film,  and  in  its  mid  career 
Arrests  the  bickering  stream.     The  loosen'd  ice, 
Let  down  the  flood,  and  half  dissolved  by  day, 
Rustles  no  more;  but  to  the  sedgy  bank 
Fast  grows,  or  gathers  round  the  pointed  stone, 
A  crystal  pavement,  by  the  breath  of  heaven 
Cemented  firm;  till,  seized  from  shore  to  shore, 
The  whole  imprison'd  river  growls  below. 
Loud  rinss  the  frozen  earth,  and  hard  reflects 
A  double  noise;  while,  at  his  evening  watch, 
The  village  dog  deters  the  nightly  thief; 
The  heifer  lows  ;  the  distant  waterfall 
Swells  in  the  breeze  ;  and,  with  the  hasty  tread 
Of  traveller,  the  hollow-sounding  plain 
Shakes  from  afar.    The  full  ethereal  round, 
Infinite  world-  disclosiiiH  to  the  view. 
Shines  out  intenselv  ki'en  ;  and,  all  one  cope 
Of  starry  glittez,  glows  from  p*  le  to  poU 


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From  pole  to  pole  the  risid  influencH  falls, 
Through  ihe  still  niL^lit,  incessant,  heavy,  strottg, 
And  seizes  Nature  fast.     It  freezes  on  ; 
Till  Jlorn,  late  rising  o'er  the  drooping  world, 
Lifts  her  pale  eye  unjoyous.     Then  appears^ 
Tiie  various  labour  of  the  silent  nishl : 
Prone  from  the  dripping  eve,  and  dumb  cascade, 
Whose  idle  torrents  only  seem  to  roar, 
The  pendent  icicle  ;  the  frost-work  fair, 
Where  transient  hues-,  and  fancied  figures  rise ; 
Wide  spouted  o'(;r  the  hill,  the  frozen  brook, 
A  livid  tract,  cold-gleaming  on  the  morn; 
The  forest  bent  beneath  the  plumy  wave; 
And  by  the  frost  refined  the  whiter  snow, 
[ncrusted  hard,  and  sounding  to  the  tread 
Of  early  shepherd,  as  he  pensive  seeks 
His  pining  flock,  or  from  tl5«^  mountain  top, 
Pleased"with  the  slippery  surface,  svvifi  descends. 

On  blithsome  frolics  iieat,  the  youthful  swains, 
While  every  work  of  man  is  laid  at  rest. 
Fond  o'er  the  river  crowd,  in  various  sport 
And  revelry  dissolved  ;  where  mixing  glad. 
Happiest  of  all  the  train  !  the  raptured  boy 
liashesthe  whirling  top.     Or,  where  ihe  Rhine 
Branch'd  out  in  many  a  long  canal  extends, 
From  every  province  svvarminc,  void  of  care, 
Baiavia  rushes  forth  ;  and  as  they  sweep. 
On  .sounding  skates,  a  thousand  different  ways. 
In  circling  poise,  swift  as  the  winds,  along, 
The  then  gay  land  is  madden'd  all  to  joy. 
Nor  less  the  northern  courts,  wide  o'er  the  snow, 
Pour  a  new  pomp.     Easer,  on  rapid  slods, 
Their  vigorous  j'outh  in  bold  contention  wheel 
The  long  resounding  course.     Jleantime  to  raise 
The  manly  strife,  with  hiuhly  bloominir  charms, 
Flush'd  by  the  season,  Scandinavia's  dames. 
Or  Russia's  bu.xom  daughters,  glow  around. 

Pure,  quirk,  and  sportful  is  the  wholesome  day 
But  soon  elapsed.     Tlie  horizontal  sun. 
Broad  o'er  the  south,  hanirs  at  his  utmost  noon: 
And,  ineffectual,  strikes  the  gelid  cliff; 
His  azure  gloss  the  mountain  still  maintains, 
Nor  feels  the  feeble  touch.     Perhaps  the  vale 
Relents  a  while  to  the  reflected  rAy  : 
Or  froia  the  forest  falls  the  clust/r'^  snow 


V 

14 


WINTER. 

JVjyii&ds  of  gems,  thai  in  the  waving  sleam 
Gay  fwinkle  as  they  scatter.    Thick  around 
Thunders  the  sport  of  those,  wlio  with  tlie  gun, 
And  dog  impatient  bounding  at  the  sliot, 
Worse  tlian  the  Season,  desnlate  ilie  fields  ; 
And,  adding  to  the  rui'ns  of  the  year, 
Distress  the  footed  or  the  featiier'd  game. 

But  what  is  this  ?  our  infant  Winter  sinks, 
Divested  of  liis  grandeur,  sjiould  our  eye 
Astonish'd  shoot  into  the  frigid  zone  .; 
Wliere,  for  relentless  nionths,  continual  Night 
Holds  o'er  the  glittering  waste  hf^r  starry  reign. 

Tltere,  through. the  prison  of  unbounded  wilds, 
Barr'd  by  the  hand  of  Aature  from  escape, 
\\ide  roams  the  Russian  exile.     Naught  around 
Strikes  iiis  sad  eye,  but  deserts  lost  in  snow  ; 
And  heavy  loaded  groves  ;  and  solid  floods, 
That  stretch,  athwart  the  solidary  vast, 
Their  icy  horrors  to  the  frozen  niain  ; 
And  cheerless  towns  far  distant,  never  bless'd. 
Save  when  its  annual  course  the  caravan 
Bends  to  the  golden  coast  of  rich  ralhiiv,* 
With  news  of  humankind.     Yet  tiiere  life  glows. 
Yet  cherish'd  there,  heneatii  the  shining  waste, 
The  furry  nations  hai hour:  tipp'd  with  je'. 
Fair  ermines,  spotless  as  the  snows  they  press ; 
Sab'es,  of  glossy  black  :  and  dark  emhrown'd. 
Or  beauteous  freak'd  with  inaiiy  a  mingled  hue, 
Thousand  besides,  the  costly  pride  of  courts. 
There,  warm  together  press'd,  the  froopirg  deet 
Sleep  on  the  new  fal'en  snows;  and,  scarce  his  head 
Raised  o'er  the  heapy  wreath,  the  branching  elk 
Lies  slumbering  sullen  in  the  wlfite  abyss. 
The  ruthless  hunter  wants  nor  dogs  nor  toils, 
Nor  with  the  dread  of  sounding  bows  he  drives 
The  fearful  flying  race  ;  with  ponderous  clubs, 
As  weak  against  the  mountain  heaps  they  push 
Their  beating  breast  in  vain,  and  piteous  bray. 
He  lays  them  quivering  on  th'  ensanguined  snows, 
And,  «ith  loud  shouts  rejoicing,  bears  Ihem  home. 
Theie  through  the  piny  foi'est  half  absorb'd, 
RouL'h  tenant  of  these  shades,  the  shapeless  bear, 
With  dangling  ice  all  horrid,  stalks  forlorn  ; 

*  The  old  name  for  China. 


Slow-paced,  and  sourer  as  tlic  storms  increase, 
He  makes  his  bed  beneath  th'  inclement  drift, 
And,  with  stern  paiience,  scorning  weak  complclint 
Hardens  his  heart  asainst  as.■^aiiing  want. 

Wide  o'er  tJie  spacious  regions  of  the  north. 
That  see  Bootes  urge  his  tardy  wain, 
A  boisterous  race,  by  frosty  Caurus*  pierced, 
Who  little  pleasure  know  "and  fear  no  pain, 
Prolific  swarm.    They  once  relumed  the  flame 
Of  lost  mankind  in  polish'd  slavery  sunk, 
Drove  martial  liorde  on  horde, f  with  dreadful  swetx 
Resistless  rushing  o'er  th'  enfeebled  south. 
And  iiave  the  vanquish'd  world  another  form. 
>Vot  such  the  sons  of  Lapland :  wisely  they 
Despise  iJi'  insensate  barbarous  trade  of  war ; 
They  ask  no  more  than  simple  Nature  gives, 
They  love  their  mountains  and  enjoy  their  storms. 
No  false  desires,  no  pride-cieatrd  wants. 
Disturb  the  peaceful  current  of  their  time; 
And  through  the  restless  ever  tortured  maze 
Of  pleasure  or  ainbiiion  bid  it  rjge. 
Their  reindeer  form  their  riches.     These  their  tenta, 
Their  robes,  their  beds,  and  all  their  homely  wealth 
Supply,  their  whtjlesome  fare  and  cheerful  cups. 
Obsequious  at  their  call,  'he  docile  tribe 
Yield  to  the  sled  their  n-  cks,  and  whirl  them  swift 
O'er  hill  and  dale,  heap'd  into  one  expanse 
Of  marble  snow,  as  far  as  eye  can  sweep 
With  a  blue  crust  of  ice  unbounded  glazed. 
By  dancing  meteors  then,  that  ceaseless  shake 
A  waving  blaze  refi  acted  o"er  the  heavens. 
And  vivid  nioons  ad  stars  tnat  keener  play 
With  doubled  lustre  from  the  glossy  waste, 
E'en  in  the  depth  of  polar  night  they  find 
A  wor.drous  day  :  (  nough  tolisht  the  chase, 
Or  guide  their  daritig  steps  to  Finland  fairs. 
Wish'd  Spring  ieturns;  and  from  the  hazy  south, 
While  dim  Attrora  slowly  moves  before. 
The  welcome  Sun,  just  verging  up  at  first, 
Ty  small  degrees,  extends  the  swelling  curve  ! 
T.  I  -eeii  at  last  for  gay  rejoicing  months, 
SMIl  round  and  rout;d,  his  spiral  course  he  winds, 


*  The  Northwest  wind. 

t  The  wandering  Scythiar.  claas. 


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And  as  he  nearly  d.ps  his  flaming  orb, 

Wheels  upauain,  and  reagceiids  ihesky 

In  that  glad  season,  from  the  lakes  and  floods, 

Where  purer  Niemi's*  fairy  mountains  rise, 

And  frinsed  \vi!h  roses  Tenglioj  rolls  his  stream, 

Th  jV  draw  tiie  copious  fry.     With  these,  at  eve, 

They  cheerful  loaded  to  their  tents  repair  ; 

Wliere,  all  day  long  in  useful  cares  einploy'd, 

Their  kind  unbleniish'd  wives  the  fire  prejmre. 

Thrice  happy  race !  by  poverty  securwl 

From  h'tral  plunder  and  rapacious  power: 

In  whom  fell  interest  never  yet  has  sown 

The  seeds  of  vice :  wJiose  spotless  swains  ne'er  knew 

Injurious  deed,  nor,  blasted  by  ihe  breath 

Of  faithless  love,  their  bloomiiiir  daushfers  wo. 

Still  pressing  on,  beyond  Tornea's  lake, 
And  Hecia  flaminj;  through  a  waste  of  snow, 
And  furthest  Greenland,  to  the  pole  itself, 
Wheie,  falling  gradual,  life  at  length  goes  out, 
The  Muse  exfiands  her  solitary  flight; 
And,  hovering  o'er  the  wild  stupendous  scene, 
Beholds  new  seas  beneath  another  sky4 
Throned  in  his  palaceof  cerulean  ice. 
Here  Winter  holds  his  unrejoicing  coiirt ; 
And  through  his  airy  hall  the  loud  misrule 
Of  drivinsr  tempest  is  for  ever  heard  •, 
Here  the  grim  tyrant  meditates  his  wrath  ; 
Here  arms  his  winds  with  all  subduing  frost; 
Moulds  his  tierce  hail,  and  treasures  up  liis  snows, 
With  which  he  now  oppresses  half  the  globe. 

Thence,  winding  eastward  to  the  Tartar's  coast, 

*  M.  de  Maupertuis,  in  his  book  on  the  Figure  of  the 
Earth,  alVr  havingdescribed  thebeantif;.!  lake  and  moun- 
tain of  Niemi,  in  Lapland,  says,  "  From  this  height  we 
had  opportunity  several  times' to  see  those  vapours  rise 
from  the  lake  which  the  people  of  the  country  call  Haltbs, 
and  which  thev  deem  to  be  the  guardian  spirits  of  the 
mountains.  We  had  been  frighted  with  stories  of  beara 
that  haunted  this  place,  but  saw  none.  It  seemed  rathet 
a  place  of  resort  for  fairies  and  genii  than  bears." 

t  The  same  author  observes,  "  1  was  sirrprised  to  see 
upon  the  banks  of  this  river  (the  Tenglio)  roses  of  as  lively 
a  red  ar  any  tliat  are  in  our  gardens." 

X  The  other  Jiemisphere. 


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WINTER.- 

She  sweeps  the  howlinzmarsin  of  the  main ; 

Wliere-undissolvinjr,  from  tlie  first  of  time, 

Snows  swell  on  snows  aniazin?  to  the  sky  ; 

And  icy  mountains  high  on  mountains  piled 

Seem  to  the  sliivering  sailor  from  afar, 

Shai)eless  and  white,  an  atmosphere  of  clouds 

Projected  huge  and  horrid  o'er  ihe  surge, 

Alps  frown  on  Alps  ;  or  rushing  hideous  down, 

As  if  old  Chaos  was  again  return'd. 

Wide  rend  the  deep  and  shake  the  solid  pole. 

Ocean  its -If  no  lonm^r  can  resist 

The  binding  fury  :  but,  in  all  its  rage 

Of  tempest  lakeii  by  the  boundless  frost, 

Is  many  a  fathom  to  Ihe  bottom  chain'd, 

And  bid  to  roar  no  more:  a  bleak  expanse, 

Shasfg'd  o'er  with  wavy  rocks,  cheerless,  and  void 

Of  every  life,  that  from  the  dreary  months 

Flies  conscious  southward,     isriscrable  they !  / 

Who,  here  entangled  in  Ihegailx  rinji  i^-e, 

Take  their  last  look  of  ihe  descendiiis:  s  jn  , 

While,  full  of  death,  and  fierce  with  tenfold  frost, 

The  long  long  niuht,  incumbent  o'er  their  heads, 

Falls  honible.     Such  was  the  Briton's*  fate, 

As  with  first  prow  (what  have  not  Britons  dared?) 

He  for  ilie  passage  souL'ht,  attempted  since 

So  much  in  vain^  and  seeming  to  be  shut 

By  jealous  Nature  with  eternal  bars. 

In  these  fell  regions,  in  Arzina  caught. 

And  to  the  stormy  deep  liis  idle  ship 

Immediate  seal'd,  he  with  his  hapless  crew, 

Each  full  exerted  at  his  sevt'ral  ta^k, 

Froze  into  statues  :  to  the  cordage  glued 

The  sailor,  and  the  pilot  to  the  helm. 

Hard  by  these  shores,  where  scarce  his  freezing  strcaoi 

oils  tlie  wild  Obv,  live  the  last  of  men ; 
And  half  enliven'd  by  the  distant  sun, 
That  rears  and  ripens  man  as  weil  as  plants. 
Here  human  Xature  wears  its  rudest  form. 
Deep  from  the  piercing  season  sunk  in  caves, 
Here  by  dull  fires  and  with  unjoyous  cheer 
They  waste  the  tedious  sloom.     Immersed  in  furs, 
Doze  the  gross  race.     Nor  sprightly  jest  Tior  song 

*  Sir  Hugh  Willoughby,  sent  by  Queen'  Elizabeth  to 
discover  the  rartheast  passage. 


Sot  tendemosa  they  know  ;  nor  au^ht  of  life 
neyoiid  the  kindred  bears  vhai  stalk  without, 
Till  morn  at  fenjrth,  her  roses  drooping  all, 
Sheds  a  loiijr  twilij;ht  hriirlitening  o'er  their  fields, 
And  calls  the  qniver'd  savage  to  the  chase. 

What  cannot  active  <ioverriment  perform, 
New-mouldins  man  1  Wide-stretchins;  from  these  sliores. 
A  people  savace  from  remotest  time, 
A  liMjre  neglected  empire,  one  vast  mind. 
By  heaven  inspired,  from  gothic  darkness  call'd. 
Iiiitnortal  Peter  :  first  of  inonarchs  I  he 
His  stubborn  country  tame<l,  her  rocks,  her  fens, 
Her  flood.<,  her  seas,"  her  ill  submittinfr  s-ons  ; 
And  while  ilie  fierce  barbarian  lie  subdued, 
To  more  exalted  soul  he  raised  ilie  man. 
Ye  shades  of  ancient  heroes,  ye  who  toil'd 
Through  loiisr  sncces^ive  aaes  to  build  up 
A  labouring  plan  of  state,  behold  at  once 
The  wonder  done  !  behold  the  matchless  prince  1 
Who  Ifift  his  native  throne,  where  reign'd  till  then 
A  miirhty  shadow  of  unreal  power; 
Who  ^.'really  spurn'd  the  slothful  pomp  of  courts 
And  roamin"  every  land,  in  every  port 
His  sceptre  laid  aside,  with  glorious  hand 
Unweari'Hl  plying  the  mechanic  tool, 
Galher'd  the  seeds  of  trade,  of  useful  arts, 
Of  civil  wisdom,  and  of  martial  skill. 
Charged  with  the  stores  of  Europe,  home  he  goes' 
Then  riiies  rise  amid  th'  illumined  waste  ; 
O'er  jiiyless  deserts  smiles  the  rural  reign  ; 
Far  distant  flood  to  flood  is  social  join'd ; 
Th'  asionisli'd  Euxine  'lears  the  Baltic  roar; 
Proud  navies  ride  on  s(  as  that  never  foam'd 
With  daring  keel  before  ;  and  armies  stretch 
Ka<  h  way  their  dazzlins  files,  repressing  here 
The  fan  ic  Alexander  of  the  north. 
And  awing  there  str  rn  Oihnian's  shrinkinc  sous. 
Sloth  flies  the  land,  and  Ignorance  and  Vice, 
Of  old  dishonour  proud  :  it  glows  annmd, 
Taught  by  the  Royal  Hand  that  roused  the  whole, 
One  scene  of  aris,  of  ai  ms,  of  risinc  trade  : 
For  what  his  wisdom  plann'd,  and  power  enforced, 
More  potent  still,  his  great  exanii)le  show'd. 

Muttering,  the  wiiids  at  eve,  with  blunted  point, 
Blow  hollovv-blustering  from  the  south.    Subdued, 


^  N  ^^  j^at  *??^^/'   o^^3-^ 


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f 


WINTER. 

The  frost  resolves  into  a  trickling  thaw. 

Spotted  the  mountains  shine  ;  loose  sleet  descends, 

And  Hoods  the  country  round.     The  rivers  swell 

or  bonds  impatient.     Sudden  from  the  hills, 

O'er  rc»cks  and  woods,  in  broad  brown  cataracts, 

A  thousand  snow-fed  torrents  shoot  at  once  ; 

And,  where  they  rush,  the  wide-resounding  plain 

[s  left  one  slimy  waste.     Those  sullen  seas. 

That  wash'd  th'  ungenial  pole,  will  rest  no  more 

Beneath  the  shackles  of  the  mighty  north  ; 

But,  rousing  all  tlieir  waves,  resistless  heave. 

And  hark  I  the  lengthening  roar  continuous  runs 

Athwart  the  rifted  deep  :  at  once  it  bursts. 

And  piles  a  thousand  mountains  to  the  clouds. 

Ill  fares  the  bark  with  trembling  wretches  charged, 

That,  toss'd  amid  the  floating  fragments,  moors 

Beneath  the  shelter  of  an  icy  isle, 

While  night  o'erwhelms  the  sea,  and  horror  looks 

More  horrible.     Can  human  force  endure  . 

Th'  assembled  mischiefs  that  besiege  them  round? 

Heart  gnawing  hunger,  fainting  weariness, 

The  roar  of  winds  and  waves,  the  crush  of  ice, 

Now  ceasing,  now  renew'd  wi-th  louder  rage, 

And  in  dire  echoes  bellowing  round  the  main. 

More  to  embroil  the  deep,  Leviathan, 

And  his  unwieldy  train,  in  dreadful  sport. 

Tempest  the  lodsen'd  brine,  while  through  the  gloom 

Far  from  the  bleak  inhospitable  shore, 

Loadinir  the  winds,  is  heard  the  hnngiy  howl 

Of  famish'd  monsters,  there  awaiting  wrecks. 

Yet  Providence,  that  ever  waking  eye. 

Looks  down  with  pity  on  the  feeble  toil 

Of  mortals  lost  to  ho]ie,  and  liiihts  them  safe 

Through  all  this  dreary  labyrinth  of  fate. 

'Tis  done  !  dread  Winter  spreads  his  latest  f looms, 
And  reigns  tremendous  o'er  the  conquer'd  Year. 
How  dead  the  vegetable  kingdom  lies  ! 
How  dumb  the  tuneful !  horror  wide  extends 
His  desolate  domain.     Behold,  fond  man  . 
See  here  thy  pictured  life;  pass  some  few  years, 
Thy  flowering  Spring,  thy  Summer's  ardent  streogth, 
Thy  sober  Autumn  fading  into  age. 
And  pale  concluding  Winter  comes  at  last, 
And  shuts  the  scene.    Ah!  whither  now  are  fled 
Those  dreams  of  gieatness  ?    those  unsolid  hopes 


1 


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WINTER 


Of  happiness  1  those  longings  aftT  fame'. 
Those  restless  cares  7  those  busy  bustlin^r  days  1 
Those  gay-spent,  festive  nigiits  ?  those  veering  though 
Lost  between  good  and  ill.  that  shared  thy  Ufe  1 
AJl  now  are  vanish'd  !     Virtue  sole  survives, 
Immortal  never  failing  friend  of  Man, 
His  guide  to  happiness  on  high.    And  sec  ! 
'Tis  come,  ihe  glorious  morn  I  the  second  birth 
Of  heaven  and  earth  !  awakening  Nature  heart 
The  new-creaiing  w^ord,  and  starts  lo  life, 
In  every  heighten'd  form,  from  pain  and  death 
For  ever  free.    The  great  eternal  sciieme, 
Involving  ail,  and  in  a  perfect  whole 
Uniting,  as  the  prospect  wider  spreads. 
To  reason's  eye  refined  clears  up  apace. 
Ye  vainly  wise  !  ye  blind  presunipiuous  I  now, 
Confounded  in  the  dust,  adore  that  Power 
And  Wisdom  oft  arraign'd :  see  now  the  cause, 
Why  UTiassuming  Worth  in  secret  lived. 
And  diid,  neglected  :  whj'  the  good  man's  share 
In  life  was  gall  and  bitterness  of  soul ; 
Why  the  lone  widow  and  her  orp'hans  pined 
In  starving  solitude  ;  while  Luxury, 
In  palaces,  lay  straining  her  low  thought. 
To  form  unreal  wants;  why  heaven-born  Truth 
And  Moderation  fair  wore  the  red  marks 
Of  Superstition's  scourge  :  why  licensed  Pain, 
That  cruel  spoiler,  thai  embosom'd  foe, 
Embittcr'd  all  our  bliss.    Ye  good  distress'd  I 
Ye  noble  few  !  who  here  unbending  stand 
Beneath  life's  pressure,  yet  bear  up  a  while, 
And  what  your  bounded  view,  which  only  saw 
A  little  part,  deem'd  evil  is  no  more  : 
The  storms  of  Wintrj'  Time  will  quickly  pass 
And  one  unbounded  S{)riiig  encircle  all. 
K 


ife 


These,  as  tl.ay  change,  Almighty  Father  thcs^ 
Are  but  th<^  varied  God.    The  rolling  year 
Is  full  of  Thee.     FortI,  in  the  pleasing  Spring 
Thy  l)eauty  walks,  thy  tenderness  and  love. 
Wide  flush  the  fields;  the  softening  air  is  balm 
Echo  the  mountains  round:  the  forest  smiles  ; 
And  every  sense  and  every  heart  is  joy. 
Then  conies  thy  elory  in  the  Summer  months, 
With  lisrht  and  heat  re^'ulgent.    Then  thy  sun 
Shoots  full  perfection  through  the  swelling  year: 
And  oft  THY  voice  in  dreadful  tJninder  speaks : 
And  oft  at  dawn,  deep  noon,  or  falling  eve, 
By  brooks  and  groves,  ni  hollow-whispering  gales 
Thy  bounty  shines  in  Autumn  uncontined. 
And  spreads  a  common  feast  for  all  that  lives. 
In  Winter  awful  Thou  !  with  clouds  and  storms 
Around  Thee  thrown,  tempest  o'er  tempest  roU'd 
Majestic  darkness!  on  the  whirlwind's  wing, 
Riding  sublime.  Thou  bidstthe  world  adore. 
And  humblest  Nature  with  thy  northern  blast. 

Mysterious  round !  what  skill,  what  force  divine 
Deep  felt,  in  these  appear '.  a  simple  train, 
Yet  so  delightful  mix'd,  with  such  kind  art, 
Such  beauty  and  beneticence  combined  ; 
Shade,  unperceived,  so  softening  into  shade; 
And  all  so  forming  an  narmonious  whole; 
That,  as  they  still  succeed,  they  ravish  still. 
But  wandering  oft,  with  brute  unconscious  gaze, 
Man  marks  rot  Thef,  marks  not  the  mij^hty  hand 


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HYMN. 

That,  ever  busy,  wL  eels  the  silent  spheres  , 
Works  in  the  secret  deep  ;  shoots,  steaming,  thence 
TJ)e  fair  profusion  lliat  o'erspreads  the  Spring: 
Fiiugs  from  the  sun  direct  the  flaming  day; 
Feeds  every  creature;  iiurls  the  tempest  forth  ; 
And,  as  on  earth  tliis  grateful  change  revolves, 
With  transport  touches  all  the  spring*  of  life. 

Nature,  attend  i  join,  everj'  living  soul, 
Beneath  the  spacious  temple  of  the  sky. 
In  adoration  join  ;  and,  ardent,  raise 
One  general  song !  To  Him,  ye  vocal  gales, 
Breathe  soft,  whose  Spirit  in  your  freshness  breathes: 
Oil,  talk  of  Him  in  solitary  glooms ! 
Where,  o'er  the  rock,  the  scarcely  waving  pine 
Fills  the  brown  shade  with  a  religious  awe. 
And  ye,  whose  bolder  note  is  heard  afar. 
Who  shake  th'  astonish'd  world,  lift  high  to  heaven 
Th'  impetuous  song,  and  say  from  whom  you  rage. 
His  praise,  ye  brooks,  attune,  ye  trembling  rills ; 
And  let  me  catch  it  as  I  muse  along. 
Ye  headlong  torrents,  rapid  and  profound; 
Ye  softer  floods,  that  lead  the  humid  maze 
Along  the  vale  ;  and  thou,  majestic  juain, 
A  secret  world  of  wonders  in  thyself, 
Sound  His  stupendous  praise ;  whose  greater  voice 
Or  bids  you  roar,  or  bids  your  roaring  fall. 
Soft  roll  your  incense,  herbs,  and  fruits,  and  flowers, 
In  mingled  clouds  to  Him  ;  whose  sun  exalts. 
Whose  breath  perfmnes  you,  and  whose  pencil  paints. 
Ye  forests,  bend,  ye  Jiarvests,  wave,  to  Him  ; 
Breathe  your  still  song  into  the  reaper's  heart, 
As  home  he  goes  beneath  the  joyous  moon. 
Ye  that  keep  watch  in  heaven,  as  earth  asleep 
Unconscious  lies,  effuse  your  mildest  beams, 
Ye  constellations,  while  "your  angels  strike, 
Amid  the  spangled  sky,  the  silver  lyre. 
(.Jieat  soarce  ot^  day  I  best  image  here  below 
Of  thy  Creator,  ever  pouring  wide. 
From  world  to  world  the  vital  ocean  round. 
On  Nature  write  with  every  beam  His  praise. 
The  Thunder  rolls:  be  hiisli'd  the  prostrate  world  ; 
While  cloud  to  cloud  returns  the  sole.mn  hymn, 
ileal  out  afresh,  ye  hills  :  ye  mos^y  rocks, 
detain  thf'  sound:  the  broad  responsive  low, 
Ve  valleys,  Iui^e ;  for  the  Grkat  Shepherd  :eign3j 


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And  his  unsuffering  kingdom  yet  will  come. 

Ye  woodlands  ail,  awake:  a  boundless  song 

Burst  from  the  irroves  !  and  vvlien  the  restless 

Expiring,  lays  the  warbling  world  asleep. 

Sweetest  of  birds  I  sweet  Philomela,  charm 

The  listening  shades,  and  teach  the  night  His  praise 

Ye  chief,  for  whom  the  whole  creation  smiles, 

At  once  the  head,  the  heart,  the  tongue  of  all. 

Crown  the  great  hymn  ;  in  swarming  cities  vast, 

Assembled  men,  to  the  deep  orsan  join 

The  Ions  resounding  voice,  oft  breaking  clear, 

At  solemn  pauses,  through  the  swelling  base  ; 

And  as  each  mingling  flame  increases  each, 

In  one  united  ardour  rise  to  heaven. 

Or  if  you  rather  choose  the  rural  shade. 

And  find  a  fane  in  every  sacred  grove : 

There  let  the  shepherd's  flute,  the  virgin's  lay," 

The  prompting  seraph,  and  the  poet's  lyre, 

Still  spiigthe  God  of  Seasons,  as  they  roil  ! 

For  me,  when  I  forget  the  darling  theme. 

Whether  the  blossom  blows,  the  summer  ray 

Russets  the  plain,  inspiring  Autumn  gleams. 

Or  winter  rises  in  the  blackening  east ; 

Be  my  tongue  mute,  may  fancy  paint  no  more, 

And,  dead  to  joy,  forget  my  heart  to  beat ! 

Should  fate  command  me  to  the  furthest  verge 
Of  tJie  green  earth,  to  distant  ba-rbarous  climes, 
Riv^ers  unknown  lo  song;  where  tirst  the  sun 
Gilds  Indian  mountains^  or  his  setting  beam 
Flames  on  th' Atlantic  isles  ;  'tis  naught  to  me: 
Since  God  is  ever  present,  ever  fplt, 
In  tha  void  waste  as  in  the  city  full ; 
And  where  He  vital  breathes  their  must  be  joy. 
When  e'en  at  last  the  solemn  hour  shall  come. 
And  wing  my  mystic  flight  to  future  worlds, 
I  cheerful  will  obey  ;  there,  \\  ith  new  powers, 
Will  rising  wonders  sing :  t  cannot  go 
Where  Universal  Love  not  smiles  around, 
Sustaining  all  yon  orbs,  and  all  '.heir  »uns; 
From  seeming  Evil  still  educing  Good, 
And  better  thence  asain,  and  better  still, 
III  infinite  progression.     Bui  I  lose 
Myself  in  Him,  in  Light  ineffable  ! 
Come  then,  expressive  Silence  muse  his  praise. 


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CASTLE 

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INDOIiENCK. 


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ADVERTISEMENT. 

This  poem  being  written  in  the  manner  of  Spenser,  the 
obsolete  words,  and  a  simplicity  of  diction  in  some  of  the 
lines,  which  borders  on  the  ludicrous,  were  necessary  to 
make  the  imitation  more  perfect.  And  the  style  of  that 
admirable  poet,  as  well  as  the  measure  in  which  he  wrote, 
are,  as  it  were,  appropriated  by  custom  to  all  allegorical 
poems  written  in  our  language ;  just  as  the  French 
style  of  JUarot,  who  lived  under  Francis  I.  has  been  used 
In  tales,  and  familiar  erisues,  dv  the  politest  writem  of 
the  age  of  Louis  XIV 


THE    CASTLE 

OF 

INDOL.ENCE. 


The  castle  hipht  of  indolence, 
And  its  false  luxury  ; 

Where  for  a  little  time,  alas! 
We  liv'd  right  joUily. 


O  MORTAL  MAN,  wJio  Hvesl  here  by  toil, 

Do  not  complain  of  this  thy  hard  estate  ; 

That  like  an  emmet  thou  must  ever  moil, 

Is  a  sad  sentence  of  an  ancient  date  ; 

And,  cerfes,  there  is  for  it  reason  great; 

For,  tho'  sometimes  it  makes  thee" weep  and  wall 

And  curse  thy  star,  and  early  drud?e  and  late, 

Withouten  that  would  come  an  heavier  bale, 

Loose  life,  unruly  passions,  and  diseases  pale. 
II. 
In  lowly  dale,  fast  by  a  river's  side. 
With  woody  hill  o'er  hill  encompass'd  round, 
A  most  enchanting  wizard  did  abide, 
1'han  whom  a  tiend  more  fell  is  no  where  found. 
It  was,  I  ween,  a  lovely  spot  of  ground  ; 
And  there  a  season  at  ween  June  and  J\Iay^ 
Half  prankt  with  spring,  with  summer  half  imbrown'd- 
A  listless  climate  made,  where,  sooth  to  say, 

No  living  wight  could  work,  ne  cared  even  for  play 
III. 
Was  nausht  around  but  imases  of  rest: 
Slf»ep  soothing  groves,  and  ctuiet  lawns  between  ; 
And  flnv.-ery  beds  that  slumbious  influence  kest, 
Fiom  poppies  hreath'd  ;  and  beds  of  pleasant  gr^jen, 


\1 


THE    CASTLe 

Wliere  never  j-et  was  creeping  creature  seen. 
Meantime  unnunibcr'd  glitttnng  streamlets  play  d, 
And  hurled  every  where  their  waters  slieen  ; 
That,  as  they  hicker'd  through  the  sunny  glade, 

Though  restless  still  themselves,  a  lulling  murniur  made, 
IV. 
Join'd  to  the  prattle  of  the  purling  rills, 
Were  heard  the  lowing  herds  along  the  vale, 
And  flocks  loud-bleating  from  the  distant  hills. 
And  vncant  shepherds  pipinsi  in  the  dale: 
And  now  and  then  sweet  Philomel  would  wail, 
Or  stock-doves  plain  amid  th.e  forest  deep. 
That  drowsy  rustled  to  the  sighing  gale  ; 
And  still  a  coil  the  grasshopper  did  keep; 

Yet  all  these  sounds  vblent  inclined  all  to  sleep. 
V 
Full  in  the  passage  of  the  vale,  above, 
A  sable,  silent,  solemn  forest  stood  ; 
Where  naught  but  shadowy  Ibrnis  were  seen  to  move 
As  Idlest  fancy'd  in  her  dreaming  mood  ; 
An(i  up  the  hills,  on  either  sidp,  a  wood 
Of  blackening  pines,  aye  wavuig  to  and  fro, 
Sent  forth  a  sleepy  horror  through  the  blood: 
And  where  this  valley  winded  out  below, 

The  murnmiing  main  was  heard,  and  scarcely  heard  tc 
flow. 

VI. 
A  pleasing  land  of  drowsy-head  it  was, 
Of  dreams  that  wave  before  the  half-shut  eye  ; 
And  of  gay  castles  in  the  clouds  that  pass. 
For  ever  flushing  round  a  summer  sky  : 
There  eke  the  soft  deli<:hts,  tliat  witchingly 
Instil  a  wanton  sweetness  through  the  breast. 
And  the  calm  pleasures  aiways  hover'd  nigh  ; 
But  whate'er  smack'd  of  noyance,  or  unrest. 

Was  far,  far  off  expeh'd  Irom  this  delicious  nest. 
VII. 
l^'i"  landskip  such,  inspiring  perfect  ease, 
Where  Indolence  (for  so  the  wizard  higlit) 
Close  hid  his  castle  mid  embowering  trees. 
That  half  shut  out  the  beams  of  Phrebus  bright. 
And  made  a  kind  of  checker'd  day  and  night: 
Meanwhile  unceasins  at  the  massy  gate, 
Betitaih  a  spacious  palm,  the  witked  wight 
Was  plac'd  ;  and  to  his  lute,  of  cruel  faie, 
And  labour  harsh  complain'd  lamenlmg  man's  estate 


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OF  INDOLENCE. 

viir. 

Thither  continual  pilgrims  crowded  still, 
From  all  the  roads  of  earth  that  pass-thereby  : 
For  as  they  chaunc'd  to  breathe  on  neighbouring  hill. 
The  freshness  of  this  valley  smote  their  eye, 
And  drew  them  ever  and  anon  more  nigh  ; 
'Till  clustering  round  th'  enchanter  false  they  hung, 
Ymolien  with  his  syren  m.elody  ; 
While  o'er  th'  enfeebling  lute  his  hand  he  flung, 
And  to  the  trembling  chords  these  tempting  verses  sung: 

"  Behold  !  j'e  pilgrims  of  this  earth,  behold  ! 
*'  See  all  but  man  with  unearn'd  pleasure  gay: 
••  See  her  bright  robes  the  butterfly  unfold, 
"  Broke  from  her  wintry  tomb  in  priine  of  Jl/ay' 
"  What  youtliful  bride  can  equal  her  array! 
"  Who  can  with  her  for  easy  pleasure  vie  1 
"  From  mead  to  mead  with  gentle  wing  to  stray, 
"  From  flower  to  flower  oii  balmy  gales  to  fly, 

'*  Is  all  she  has  to  do  beneath  the  radiant  slvy 
X. 
•'  Behold  the  merry  minstrels  of  the  morn, 
"  The  swarming  songsters  of  the  careless  grove, 
"  Ten  thousand  throats !  that,  from  the  flowering  thorn, 
"  H3'mn  their  good  God,  and  carol  sweet  of  love, 
"  Such  grateful  kindly  raptures  them  emove: 
•'  They  neither  plough,  nor  sow  ;  ne,  fit  for  flail, 
"  E'er  to  the  barn  the  nodden  sheaves  they  drove ; 
"  Yet  theirs  each  harvest  dancins  in  the  gale, 

'*  Whatever  crowns  the  hill  or  smiles  along  the  vale 
XI. 
«*  Outcast  of  nature,  man  J  the  v^Tetched  thrall 
"  Of  bitter-drooping  sweat,  of  sweltry  pain, 
"  Of  cares  that  eat  away  the  heart  with  gall, 
*^  And  of  the  vices,  an  inhuman  tra^i, 
"  That  all  proceed  from  savage  thirst  of  gain  : 
"  For  whf  a  hard-hearted  Interest  first  began 
"  To  poison  earth,  Astr^ia  left  the  plain  ; 
"  Guile,  violence,  and  iiiurder  seiz'd  on  man, 

"  And,  for  soft  milky  streams,  with  blood  the  rivers  ran. 
XII. 
"  Come,  ye,  who  still  the  cumbrous  load  of  life 
"  Push  hard  up  hill ;  but  as  the  farthest  sleep 
"  You  trust  to  gain,  and  put  an  end  to  strife, 
"  Down  thunders  back  the  stone  with  mighty  Fweep, 


.si  3 


11 


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156 


THE    CASTLE 


"  And  hurls  your  labours  to  the  valley  deep, 
"  For  ever  vain :  come,  and,  withouten  fee, 
'•  1  in  oblivion  will  your  sorrows  steep, 
"  Your  cares,  your  toils,  will  steep  you  in  ai 

'  Of  full  delight :  O  come,  ve  weary  wights,  to  me ! 
Till. 
"  With  me,  you  need  not  rise  at  early  dawn, 
"  To  pass  the  joyless  day  in  various  stounds  ; 
"  Or,  loutins  low,  on  upstart  fortune  fawn, 
"  And  sell  fair  honour  for  some.paltry  pouncs; 
"  Or  through  the  city  take  your  dirty  rounds, 
"  To  cheat,  and  dun,  and  lie,  and  visit  pay, 
"  Now  flattering  base,  now  giving  secret  wounds, 
"  Or  prowl  in  courts  of  law  for  human  prey, 

'  In  venal  senate  thieve,  or  rob  on  broad  highway. 
XIV. 
•'N3  cocks,  with  me,  to  rustic  labour  call, 
"  From  village  on  to  village  sounding  clear ; 
"  To  tardy  swain  no  shrill-voic'd  matrons  squall; 
"  No  dogs,  no  babes,  no  wives,  to  stun  your  ear ; 
"  Xo  hammers  thump  :  no  horrid  blacksmith  fear  ; 
"  Xo  noisy  tradesmen  your  sweet  slumbers  start, 
"  With  so'unds  that  are  a  misery  to  hear : 
"But  all  is  calm,  as  would  delight  the  heart 

♦Of  Sybarite o{  old,  all  nature,  and  all  art. 
XV. 
"  Here  naught  but  candour  reigns,  indulgent  ease, 
"Good-natured  louniiing,  sauntering  up  and  down: 
"  They  who  are  pleas'd  themselves  must  always  please; 
"  On  others'  ways  thry  never  squint  a  frown, 
"  Nor  heed  what  haps  "in  hamlet  or  in  tov/n  : 
"Thus,  from  the  source  of  tender  indolence, 
"  With  milky  blood  the  heart  is  overflown, 
"  Is  sootird  aad  sweeten'd  by  the  social  sense  : 

"■  For  interest,  envv,  pride,  andstrife  are  banish'd  hence. 
XVI. 
"  What,  what  is  virtue,  but  repose  of  mind, 
"A  pureeihereal  calm,  that  knows  no  storm; 
"Above  the  read,  of  wild  ambition's  wind, 
"  Above  those  passions  that  this  world  deform, 
"  And  torture  man.  a  proud  malignant  worm  ? 
"  But  here,  instead,  soft  gales  of  passion  play, 
"  And  senile  stir  the  heart,  thereby  to  form 
"  A  quicker  sense  of  joy  ;  as  breezes  stray 
'  Across  th'  erdiven'dskies,and  make  them  still  more  gay 


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XVII. 
«  The  best  of  men  have  everlovd  repose  : 
•'  They  tiate  to  mingle  in  the  filthy  fray ; 
"  Where  the  soul  sours,  and  gradual  rancour  grows, 
"  Inibitter'd  more  from  peevish  day  to  day. 
"  E'en  those  whom  fame  has  lent  her  fairest  ray, 
"The  most  renown'd  of  worthy  wights  of  yore, 
*'  From  a  base  world  at  last  have  stol'n  away  : 
"  So  Scipio,  to  the  soft  Cumaan  shore 

"Retiring,  tasted  joy  he  never  knew  before. 
XVIII. 
"  But  if  a  little  exercise  you  choose, 
"  Some  zest  for  ease,  'tis  not  forbidden  here. 
•'  Amid  the  groves  you  may  indulge  the  muse, 
"  Or  lend  the  blooms,  and  deck  the  vernal  j'ear ; 
"  Or  softly  stealin2,  with  your  wat'ry  gear, 
"Along  the  brooks,  the  crimson-spotted  fry 
«'  You  may  delude :  The  whilst,  amus'd,  you  hear 
"  Now  the  hoarse  stream,  and  now  tlie  zephyr'.«  sigfei 
"  Attuned  to  the  birds,  and  woodland  melody. 

XIX. 
"O  grievous  folly  !  to  heap  up  estate, 
"  Losmg  liic  days  you  see  beneath  the  sun  ; 
"  When,  sudden,  comes  blind  unrelenting  fate, 
"  And  gives  th'  untasted  portion  you  have  won, 
"  With  ruthless  toil,  and  many  a  wretch  undone, 
"  To  those  who  mock  you  gone  to  Pluto'' s  reign, 
"  There  with  sad  ghosts  to  pine,  and  shadows  dunr 
"  But  sure  it  is  of  vanities  most  vain, 

"  To  toil  for  what  you  here  untoiling  may  obtain." 
XX. 
He  ceas'd.     Butstill  their  trembling  ears  retain'd 
The  deep  vibrations  of  his  witching  song: 
That,  by  a  kind  of  magic  power,  constrain'd 
To  enter  in,  pell-mell,  the  listening  throns.' 
Heaps  pour'd  on  heaps,  and  yet  they  slipt  along, 
In  silent  ease  :  as  wlien  beneath  the  beam 
Of  summer-moons,  the  distant  woods  among, 
Or  by  some  flood  all  silver'd  with  the  gleam, 

7'he  soft  embodied  Fays  throusih  airy  portal  stream. 

xxi: 

By  the  smooth  demon  so  it  order'd  was, 
'     And  hf-re  his baneiul  bounty  first  bejran  : 

Though  some  tliere  were  who  would  not  further  pass 
AnJ  his  alluring  ^;U«^  suspected  lian, 


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The  wise  disttust  the  too  fair-spoken  man. 
Yet  through  the  gale  they  cast  a  wisliful  eye  : 
Not  to  move  on,  perdie,  is  all  they  can ; 
For  do  their  very  best  they  cannot  fly, 

But  often  eacli  way  look,  and  often  sorely  sigh. 
XXII. 
When  this  the  watchful  wicked  wizard  saw, 
With  sudden  sjjrinu  he  leap'd  upon  them  straight; 
And  soon  as  touch'd  by  his  unhallow'd  paw, 
They  found  themselves  within  the  cursed  gate; 
Full  hard  to  be  repass'd,  like  that  of  fate. 
Not  stronsrer  were  of  old  the  giant  crew, 
Who  sousht  to  pull  hi2h  Jove  from  regal  state ; 
Though  feeble  wretch  he  seem'd,  of  sallow  hue: 

Certes,  who  bides  his  grasp,  will  that  encounter  rue. 
XXIII. 
For  whomsoe'er  the  villain  I  ikes  in  hand, 
Their  joints  unknii,  their  sinews  melt  apace; 
As  lithe  tliey  grow  as  any  willow-wand. 
And  of  their  vanish'd  force  remains  no  trace: 
So  when  a  maiden  fair  cf  modest  grace. 
In  all  her  buxom  blooming  .May  of" charms, 
Is  seized  in  some  losel's  hot  eml)race, 
She  waxeth  very  weakly  a?  she  warms. 

Then  sighing  yields  her  up  to  love's  delicious  harms 
XXIV. 
Wak'd  by  the  crowd,  slow  from  Iiis  bench  arose 
A  comely  full-spread  porter,  swolu  wiih  sleo'.i 
His  calm,  broad,  thoui.'h!le.-s  aspect  breaih'd  repose; 
And  in  sweet  torpor  he  was  plunired  deep, 
Ne  could  himself  from  ceaseless  yawning  keep: 
While  o'er  his  eyes  the  drowsy  liquor  ran, 
Through  which  hi^half-wak'd  soul  w'ould  fainfypeep 
Then,  taking  his  black  staff,  he  call'd  his  man, 

And  rous'd  himself  as  much  as  rouse  himself  he  can. 
XXV. 
The  lad  leap'd  lightly  at  his  master's  call ; 
He  was^  to  weet,  a  liMe  roguish  pai'e, 
Save  sleep  and  play  who  minded  nauaht  at  all, 
Like  most  the  untaught  striplings  of  hi,s  age. 
This  buy  he  kept  each  band  to  di>eii£a£e, 
Gartf^rs  and  buckles,  task  for  him  uiifii, 
But  ill-bf'comins  his  grave  personage. 
And  \vhi(  h  his  portlj'  paunch  wou'd  not  permit, 
O  this  same  limber  page  to  al!  perfonued  it. 


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XXVI. 

Meantime  the  master-porter  wide  di<play'd 
Great  store  of  caps,  of  slippers,  and  of  gowns; 
Wherewith  he  those  wlio  enter'd  in,  anay'd 
Loose,  as  the  breeze  that  plays  along  the  downs, 
And  waves  the  summer-woods  wlien  evening  frowns 
O  fair  undress,  best  dress!  it  checks  no  vein, 
But  every  tiowins;  limb  in  pleasure  drow  is, 
And  lieightens  ea?e  with  grace.     This  done,  right  fain, 

8ir  portor  set  him  down,  and  turn'd  to  sleep  aeain. 
XXVII. 
Thus  easy  rob'd,  they  to  the  fountain  sped, 
Thai  in  the  naddle  of  the  court  iipthrew 
A  stream,  high-spouting  from  its  liciiiid  bed, 
And  falling  back  again  in  drizzly  dew: 
There  each  deep  draughts,  as  deep  he  thirsted,  drew. 
It  was  a  fountain  of  J^''epenthe  rare; 
AT'hcnce,  as  Dan  //o/ncr  sings,  huge  pleasaunce  grew, 
And  sweet  oblivion  of  vile  earthly  care  ; 

Fair  gladsome  waking  thoughts,  and  joyous  dreams  more 
fair. 

XXVIII. 
This  rite  perform'd,  all  inly  picas'd  and  still, 
Wilhouten  trump  was  proclamation  made : 
"  Ye  sons  of  Indolence^  do  what  \  ou  will  ; 
''  And  wander  where  you  list,  thro'  hall  or  glade ! 
•'  Be  no  man's  pleasure  for  anotlier  staid  ; 
"  Let  each  as  likes  him  best  liis  hours  employ, 
"  And  curs'd  be  he  who  minds  his  neighbour's  trade! 
"  Here  dwells  kind  ease  and  imreproving  joy: 

"  He  little  merits  bliss  who  others  can  annoy." 
XXIX. 
Straight  of  these  endless  numbers,  swarming  round, 
As  thick  as  idle  motes  in  sunny  ray, 
Not  one  eftsoons  in  view  was  to  be  found, 
But  every  man  stroll'd  off  his  own  f  lad  way, 
Wide  o'er  this  ample  court's  blank  aien, 
With  all  the  lodges  that  thereto  pertain'd. 
No  living  creature  could  be  seen  to  stray ; 
While  solitude,  and  perfect  silence  reignM: 

So  that  to  think  you  dreamt  vou  almost  was  constrain'd. 
XXX. 
As  w'lf  n  a  slippherd  of  the  Hehrid  fslcs,* 
Piac'd  far  a>inid  the  melancholy  main, 

*  Those  islands  on  the  we-tern  coast  of  Scotland,  callei 
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(^  Whether  it  be  lone  fancy  him  beguiles  ; 
•~>'  that  aerial  beings  sometimes  deign 
Lo  Stand  embodied,  to  our  senses  plain,) 
?ees  on  tiw  .laked  bill,  or  valley  low, 
The  whilst  in  ocean  Phmbus  dips  his  wain, 
T.  .ast  assrnibiy  moving  to  and  fro: 
riieii  all  al  oii,^  in  air  dissolves  the  wondrous  ebow 
XXXI. 
Ye  gods  of  quiet,  and  of  sleep  profound  ! 
Whose  soft  dominion  o'er  this  castle  sways, 
And  all  the  widely-silent  places  round, 
F^>rgive  rne,  if  m\'  trembling  pen  displays 
What  never  yet  was  sung  in  mortal  lays. 
But  how  shall  I  attempt  such  arduous  string, 
I  who  have  spent  my  nights  and  nightly  days, 
In  this  soul-deadening  place,  loose-loitering"? 

Ah  !  how  shall  I  for  this  uprear  mv  moulted  wing? 
XXXII. 
Come  on,  my  Muse,  nor  stoop  to  low  despair, 
Thou  imp  of  Jove ;  touch'd  by  celestial  fire! 
Which  yet  shall  sing  of  war,  and  actions  fair, 
Which  the  bold  sons  of  Britain  will  inspire ; 
Of  ancient  bards  thou  yet  shalt  sweep  the  lyre  ; 
Thou  yet  shalt  tread  iii  tragic  pall  the  stag?; 
Paint  love's  enchanting  woes,  the  hero's  ire, 
The  sage's  calm,  the  patriot's  noble  rage, 

Dashing  corruption  down  tinoiish  every  worthless  asi 
XXXIII. 
The  doors,  that  knew  no  shrill  alarming  bell, 
No  cursed  knocker  ply'd  by  villain's  hand, 
Self-open'd  into  halls,  where,  who  can  tell 
W^hat  elegance  and  grandeur  wide  expand 
The  pride  of  Turkey  and  of  Persia  land? 
Soft  quilts  on  quilts^  on  carpets  carpets  spread, 
And  couches  stretch'd  around  in  seemly  band; 
And  endless  pillows  rise  to  prop  the  head  ; 

So  that  each  spacious  room  was  one  full  swelling  bed. 
XXXIV. 
And  every  where  huge  cover'd  tables  stood. 
With  wines  high-flavour' d  and  rich  viands  crown 
Whatever  sprightly  juice  or  tasteful  food 
On  the  green  bosom  of  this  earth  are  found, 
And  all  old  ocean  genders  in  his  round  : 
Some  hand  unseen  these  silently  display'd, 
K'en  undeuiandtd  by  a  sign  or  smnd  ; 


OF    INDCLENCZ. 

You  need  but  wish,  and,  instantly  obey'.  , 
*iir-rang'd  the  dishes  rf)se,  and  illicit  the  glasses  play'd 
XXXV. 
Here  freedom  reign'd,  without  the  least  alloy  : 
Nor  gossip's  tale,  nor  ancient  maiden's  gall, 
Nor  saintly  spleen  durst  murmur  at  our  joy, 
And  with  envenom'd  tongue  our  pleasures  pall. 
For  why  ?  there  was  but  one  great  rule  for  all ; 
To  wit,  that  each  should  work  his  own  desire, 
And  eat,  drink,  study,  sleep,  as  it  may  fall, 
Or  meli  the  time  in  love,  or  wake  the  lyre, 
\nd  carol  what,  unbid,  the  Muses  miiiht  inspire. 
XXXVI. 
The  rooms  with  costly  tapestry  were  hung. 
Where  was  inwoven  many  a  genile  tale; 
Such  as  of  old  the  rural  poets  sung, 
Or  of  .'Irr.adian  or  Sicilian  vale  : 
Reclinins  lovers,  in  the  lonely-dale, 
Pour'd  forth  at  large  the  sweetly-tortur'd  heart 
Or,  sighing  lender  passion,  swell'd  the  gale, 
And  taught  chann'd  echo  to  resound  their  smart:  [part 
'  Vhile  flocks,  woods,  streams,  around,  repose  and  peac^  ira 
XXXVII. 
Those  pleas'd  the  most,  where,  by  a  cunning  hand, 
DepaintPd  was  the  patriarrhal  aae  : 
What  time  Dan  Abraham  left  the  Ckaldce  land, 
"^nd  pastur'd  on  I'rom  verdant  stage  to  stage, 
Where  fields  and  fountains  fresh  coulil  best  engage. 
Toil  was  not  then.     Of  nothing  took  they  heed. 
But  with  wild  beasts  the  sylvan  war  to  wage, 
And  o'er  vast  plains  their  herds  and  flocks  to  feed : 
Flest  sons  of  nature  thev !  truo  solden  age  indeeti  I 
XXXVIII. 
Sometimes  the  pencil,  in  cool  aiiy  halls, 
Bade  the  gay  bloom  of  vernal  landskips  rise, 
Or  autumn's  varied  shades  imbrown  the  w'ls: 
Now  the  black  tempest  strikes  tlie  astonish  d  eyes ; 
Now  down  the  steep  the  flashing  torrent  fli<;s; 
The  trembling  sun  now  plays  o'er  ocean  blue. 
And  now  rude  mountains  frown  amid  the  skies  ; 
.    Whate'er  Lorrain  light-touch'd  with  softening  hut 
<k  savage  Rosa  dash'd,  or  learned  Poussm  drew. 
XXXIX 
Each  sound  too  here  to  languisliment  inclind 
Luird  the  weak  bosom,  and  induced  ease. 


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Aerial  ii.jc-ic  in  the  warbling  wind, 
At  distance  rising  oft,  by  small  degreea, 
Nearer  and  nearer  catne,  till  o'er  the  trees 
It  liung,  and  hroatli'd  such  soul-dissolving  air*, 
As  did,  alas  1  with  soft  perdition  please: 
Entangled  deep  in  its  enchanting  snares, 
The  listening  heart  forgot  all  duties  and  all  cares 

A  certain  niusic,  never  known  before. 
Here  lull'd  the  pensive  melancholy  mind  ; 
Full  easily  obiain'd.     Behooves  no  more, 
But  sidelor-iT,  to  theeently-waving  wind, 
To  lay  the  we!)  tun'd  instrument  reclin'd: 
From  which,  with  airy  flying  fingers  iisht, 
Beyond  each  morta!  touch  the  most  retin'd, 
The  god  of  winds  drew  sounds  of  deej)  delight  • 

VVhence,  with  just  cause?.  The  Harp  of  JEolus*  it  hlghl 
XLI. 
Ah  me  \  what  hand  ca-i  touch  the  string  so  fine  1 
Who  up  the  lofty  Diapasan  roll 
SuC'h  sweet,  such  sad,  such  solemn  airs  divine, 
Then  let  them  down  again  into  the  soul  ? 
Now  rising  love  they  fann'd  ;  now  pleasing  dole 
They  hrcath'd,  in  tender  musings,  through  the  heart; 
And  now  a  graver  sacred  strain  they  stole, 
As  when  seraphic  hands  an  hymn  impart: 

Wjld-warbling  nature  all,  above  the  reach  of  art ' 
XLII. 
Such  the  gay  splendour,  the  luxurious  state. 
Of  Caliphs  old,  who  on  the  Ticrris'  shore, 
In  mighty  Bagdat,  populous  and  great, 
IleM  their  bri^'ht  court,  where  was  of  ladies  store  ; 
And  verse,  love,  music  still  the  garland  wore : 
When  sleep  was  coy,  the  bard. t  in  waiting  there, 
Chi;»ir'd  the  Ion,;  midnight  wiui  the  Mu-e's  iore; 
Cr  nposing  mi  iic  bade  his  d- earns  be  fair, 

Ad-j  music  len»  lew  gladness  lO  the  morninc  air. 

*  This  is  nm  an  imagination  of  the  author ;  there  being, 
in  fact,  su''!!  an  instrument,  called  .,Ee/;<;>-'s  harp,  which, 
when  placed  asainst  a  little  rushing  or  current  of  air,  pro 
duces  the  effect  here  described. 

t  The  .Arabian  Caliphs  had  potts  among  tiie  officers  of 
thf'ir  court,  whose  oflice  it  was  to  do  what  is  hei?  men 
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XLiri. 

Near  the  pavilions  where  we  slept,  still  ran 
Soft  tiiiklifig  streams,  and  dasl.inji  waters  fell, 
And  sobbinjj  breezes  sisii'd,  and  oil  besan 
(So  work'd  ttie  wizard)  wimry  siorins  to  swell, 
As  lieaveii  and  eartJi  iliey  would  logeiherniell : 
At  doors  and  windows,  tiircaieninjr,  seetn'd  to  cal 
'J'he  demons  of  liie  leinpest,  crowling  /e!l, 
Yet  tlie  least  eiitiance  found  tlieynone  at  all ; 
Wlience  sweeter  grew  our  .-hep,  secure  in  massy  hall 
XLIV. 
And  hither  Morpheus  sent  his  kindest  dreams, 
Raising  a  world  of  gayer  tinct  and  grate  • 
()Vr  which  were  sliadowy  cast  elysian  gleams, 
That  piny'd,  in  waving  lights,  fmm  place  to  place, 
And  shed  a  rose  ale  smile  on  natures  face. 
Not  Titian's  pencil  e'er  could  so  array, 
Po  fleece  with  clouds  the  pure  ethereal  space; 
Ne  could  it  e'er  such  melting  forms  display. 
As  loose  on  flowery  beds  all  ianguishingly  Jay. 
XLV. 
No,  fair  illusions !  artful  phantoms,  no  I 
My  Muse  will  not  attempt  your  fairy-land  : 
She  lias  no  colours  that  like  you  can  slow 
To  catch  >  our  vivid  scenes  too  gross  her  hand. 
But  sure  it  is,  was  ne'er  a  subtler  band 
Than  these  same  guileful  angel-^ef  niing  sprichts. 
Who  thus  in- dreams,  volupuious,  soft,  and  bland 
Pour'd  all  th'  ,-3rabinn  Heaven  upon  our  nights, 
Aiid  b'.css'd  them  oft  besides  wiili  more  refin'd  delights. 
XLVI. 
They  were  in  sooth  a  most  enchanting  train, 
en  feigning  virtue  ;  skilful  to  unite 
i.h  evil  good,  and  strew  with  pleasure  pain. 

for  those  fi&nds,  whom  blood  and  broils  delight; 
ho  lusrl  the  wretcli,  as  if  to  hell  outright, 
Down,  down  black  gulfs,  where  sullen  waters  sleep, 
hold  him  clumbering  all  the  fearful  night 
bee;ling  tlifis,  or  pent  in  ruins  deep  ;  [keep. 

,  till  diie  lime  should  serve,  were  bid  far  hence  to 

XLVII. 
guardian  spirits,  to  whom  man  is  dear, 
From  these  foul  demons  sliield  the  midnight  gloom 
iigels  of  fancy  and  of  love,  he  near, 
nd  o'er  the  blank  of  £l3«3p  difiuse  a  bloom : 


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Evoke  the  sacred  shades  of  Greece  ind  RomCf 
And  let  them  virtue  will)  a  look  iiupart: 
But  chief,  a  wliile,  O  I  lend  us  from  the  tomb 
Those  long-lost  friends  for  whom  in  love  we  smart, 

\nd  fill  with  pious  awe  and  joy-mixt  wo  the  heart. 
XLVIII. 

Or  are  you  sportive Bid  the  morn  of  youth 

Rise  to  new  light,  and  beam  afresh  the  days 

Of  innocence,  simplicity,  and  truth  ; 

To  cares  estrang'd,  and"  manhood's  thorny  ways. 

What  transport,  to  retrace  our  boyish  plaj^s, 

Our  easy  i)liss,  when  each  thing  joy  supplied ; 

The  woods,  the  mountains,  and  the  warbling  maze 

Of  the  wild  brooks  1— But,  fondly  wandering  wide, 

My  Muse,  resume  the  task  that  yet  doth  thee  abide. 
XLIX. 
One  ereat  amusement  of  our  household  was, 
In  a  huge  crystal  magic  globe  to  spy, 
Still  as  you  turifd  it,  all  things  that  do  pass 
Upon  ttiis  ant-hill  eartli ;  where  constantly 
Of  idly-busy  men  the  restless  fry 
Run  bustling  to  and  fro  with  foolish  haste. 
In  search  of  pleasures  vain  th.at  from  them  fly, 
Or  which  obtain'd  thi;  caitiffs  dare  not  taste : 

When  nothing  is  enjoy'd,  can  there  be  greater  wnste  1 

Of  vainty  the  mirror  this  was  call'd. 
Here  you  a  muckworm  of  the  town  might  see, 
At  his  dull  desk,  amid  his  leszers  stall'd. 
Eat  up  with  carking  care  and  penury ; 
Most  like  to  carcass  parch'd  on  gallows-tree : 
A  penny  saved  is  a  penny  got : 
Firm  to  this  scoundrel  maxim  keepeth  he, 
Ne  of  its  rigour  will  he  bate  a  jot, 

Till  it  has  quench'd  his  fire  and  banished  his  pot 
LI. 
Straight  from  the  filth  of  this  low  grub,  behold  : 
Comes  flutteiing  forth  a  gaudy  spendthrift  heir, 
All  slossy  gay,  enamell'd  all  with  gold, 
The  silly  tenant  of  the  summer-air. 
In  ftilly  lost,  of  nothins  takes  he  care  ; 
Pimps,  lawyers,  stewards,  harlots,  flatterers  \ile, 
And  thieving  tradesmen  him  among  them  share: 
His  father's  ghost  from  limbo-lake,  the  while 

ieea  tliis,  whit'h  more  damnation  doth  upon  him  oile. 


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This  slohe  portrny'd  the  race  of  learnetl  mm, 
Still  nftlieir  books,  and  turnins  o'er  the  page, 
Backwards  and  forwards :  oft  tliey  snatch  the  pen, 
As  if  inspired,  and  in  a  Thrspinn  rage: 
Then  write,  and  blot,  as  would  your  ruth  engage : 
Why,  Auihors,  all  this  scrawl  and  scribbling  sore  ? 
To  lose  the  present,  train  the  future  age, 
Praised  to  be  wh*n  you  can  hear  no  more, 
And  much  enrich'd  witli  fame  when  useless  worldly 
store. 

Lin. 

Then  would  a  splendid  city  rise  to  view, 
With  carts,  and  cars,  and  coaches  roaring  all: 
Wide  poiir'd  abroad  behold  the  giddy  crew  ; 
See  liow  th  -y  dash  along  from  wall  to  wall ! 
At  every  door,  hark  how  they  thimderintr  call ! 
Cood  Lord  :  what  can  tliis  jriddy  rout  excite  ? 
Why  on  each  other  with  fell  tooth  to  fall ; 
A  neiglibour's  fortune,  fame,  or  peace  to  blight, 

And  make  new  tiresome  parties  for  the  coming  night. 
LIV. 
The  puzzlin?  sons  of  party  next  appear'd 
In  dark  cabals  and  nightly  juntos  met ; 
And  now  they  whir-per'd  close,  now  shrugging  rear'd 
Th'  important  shoulder;  then,  as  if  to  get 
New  lisht,  their  twinklinrt  eyes  were  inward  set- 
No  sooner  J.vrifrr*  recalls  affairs, 
Tliati  forth  they  vaious  ni«h  in  misrhty  fret  ; 
When  lo!  piish'd  up  to  pow'r,  andcrown'd  iheir  cares, 

In  conies  another  set,  and  kicketh  them  down  stairs. 
LV. 
Put  what  most  show'd  the  vanity  of  life, 
Was  to  behold  tbe  rations  all  on  fire. 
In  cruel  broils  ensrac'd,  and  deadly  strife  ; 
Most  christian  kings,  inflam'd  by  black  desire, 
With  honourable  ruffians  in  their  hire, 
Cause  war  to  raee,  and  blood  aroujid  to  pour: 
Of  this  sad  work  when  pach  begins  lo  tire, 
Then  set  them  down  just  where  tbev  were  before, 
Mil  for   new  scenes  of  wo  peace  shall  their  force  re- 
store. 


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LVI 

To  number  u)  the  thousands  dwelling;  here, 
An  useless  weie,  and  eke  an  endless  fask  ; 
From  kings,  and  those  who  at  the  helm  appear, 
To  gipsies  brown,  in  suinnier-glades  who  bask. 
Yea,  many  a  man  perdie  (  could  unmask, 
Whose  desk  and  table  make  a  solemn  show, 
"\Vi  h  tape-tied  trash,  and  suits  of  fools  that  ask 
For  place  or  pension  laid  in  decent  row  ; 

But  these  1  passen  by,  with  nameless  numbers  moe. 
LVII. 
Of  all  the  gentle  tenants  of  the  place, 
There  was  a  man  of  special  grave  remark : 
A  certain  tender  gloom  o'erspread  his  face. 
Pensive,  not  sad  ;  in  thought  iiivolv'd,  not  dark; 
As  soot  this  man  could  sing  as  morning  lark, 
And  teach  the  noblest  morals  of  the  heart : 
But  these  his  talents  were  yburied  stark  ; 
Of  tiie  tine  stores  he  nothing  would  impart, 

Which  boon  or  nature  gav.•^  or  nature-painting  art. 
LVIII. 
To  noontide  shades  incontinent  he  ran, 
Where  purls  the  brook  with  sleep  inviting  sound , 
Or  when  Dan  Sol  to  slope  liis  wheels  beran, 
Amid  the  broom  he  bask'd  him  on  the  ground. 
Where  the  wild  thyme  and  chamomile  are  found ; 
There  would  he  linger,  till'tiie  latest  ray 
Of  lisht  sat  trembling  on  the  welkin's  bound  ; 
Then  homeward  thronuh  tl'.e  twilight  shadows  stray 

Sauntering  and  slow.    So  had  he  passed  many  a  day. 
TJX. 
Yet  not  in  thouahtless  slumber  were  they  past: 
For  of  the  hi^avinly  fire  that  lay  conceai'd 
Beneath  the  slni'pin^  embers,  mounit-rt  fast, 
And  all  its  native  light  anew  reveal'd- 
Otl  as  he  travers'd  the  cerulean  fidd. 
And  markt  the  cl.Midsthat  drove  before  the  wind, 
Ten  thousand  srlorious  systt  ms  would  he  build, 
Ten  thousand  great  idf-as  fill'd  his  mind; 

But  with  the  clouds  they  flf^d.  and  left  no  uace  behind. 
LX. 
With  him  was  soniptinips  join'd.  in  si'ent  walk, 
iProfoundly  silent,  for  they  never  sp-^ke) 
One  shyer  still,  who  quite  detested  talk: 
Oftsning  by  spleen,  at  once  away  he  broke, 


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To  groves  of  pine,  and  broad  o'ersliading  oak  ; 

There,  inly  tlirill'd,  he  wander'd  all  alone, 

And  on  himself  his  pensive  fuiy  wroke, 

Ne  evenaiiter'd  word  t;ave  when  firsi  shone      [done." 

The  gliuering  star  of  eve— "Thank  heaven  :  the  da\-  is 
LXI. 
Here  hirk'd  a  wretch,  who  had  not  crept  abroad 
For  forty  years,  rie  face  of  mortal  .-een  ; 
In  chamber  brooding  like  a  loathly  load : 
And  sure  his  linen  was  not  very  clean. 
Through  secret  loop-holes  that  had  prac;is'd  been, 
Near  to  his  bed,  his  dinner  vile  he  took  ; 
Unkempt  and  rough,  of  squalid  face  and  mien, 
Our  castle's  shame :  whence,  frons  his  hilhy  nook. 

We  drove  the  villain  out  for  fitter  lair  to  look. 
LXU. 
One  day  thf^re  cliaunc'd  into  these  halls  lo  rove 
A  joyous  youth,  who  took  you  ai  first  sight ; 
Him  the  wild  wave  of  pleasure  hither  drove, 
Before  the  sprightly  tempest  tossinu  light : 
Certes  he  v.as  a  most  engaging  wight7 
Of  social  glee,  and  wit  humane  though  keen, 
Turning  the  night  to  day,  and  day  to  night : 
For  him  the  merry  bells  had  rung,  I  ween, 

If  in  this  nook  of  quiet  bolls  had  ev-er  beeu. 
LXIII. 
But  not  e'en  pleasure  to  e.vcess  is  good  : 
What  most  eiates  tlien  sinks  the  sou!  :is  low: 
Whc'i  springtide  joy  pours  in  with  c«!pious  flood, 
Tlie  liiglier  sliM  the  exultiii:.' billows  ^ow, 
The  farther  back  n;j;)in  tin  y  flagging  go, 
AntT  leavt-  us  grovelling  on  ti  e  drenry  shore-. 
Tauirht  by  this  s<.n  of  joy,  we  found  it  so  ; 
Who,  whi'st  he  stai^i,  he  kept  in  gay  uproar 

Our  madden'd  castle  all,  the  abode  of  sleep  no  more. 
LXIV. 
As  when  in  prime  of  .June,  a  bnrnish'd  fly, 
Sprung  from  the  n;eads,  o'er  which  he  sweeps  along, 
Cheer'/l  hy  \he  bre;i.hing  bloom  a!)d  vital  sky, 
Tunes  up  j'.nijd  these  airy  lialls  h.is  song. 
Soothing  at  first  th"  gay  reposins  throng  ; 
And  oft  he  sips  iheir  bowl ;  or  nea:  ly  drown'd, 
He  ihence  recoveriivg,  drives  their  beds  among, 
And  scares  tlieir  te!i<der  sl^ep,  with  trump  profoutid  ; 

Then  out  auain  he  flies,  to  wing  his  mazy  round. 


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LXV. 

Another  guest  there  was,  of  sense  refin'd, 
Who  felt  each  worth,  for  every  worth  lie  had ; 
Serene,  yet  warm  ;  humane,  yet  firm  his  mind, 
As  little  touch'd  as  any  man's  with  bad  ; 
Him  through  their  inmost  walks  the  Muses  led, 
To  him  the  sacred  love  of  nature  lent, 
And  sometimes  would  he  make  our  valley  glad  ; 
When,  as  "vc  found  he  would  not  here  be  pent, 

To  him  the  better  sort  thi:^  friendly  message  sent. 
LXVI. 
"  Come,  dwell  with  us !  true  son  of  virtue,  come ! 
"  But  if,  alas:  we  cannot  thee  persuade, 
"To  lie  content  beneath  our  peaceful  dome, 
"  Ne  ever  more  to  quit  our  quiet  clade ; 
"  Yet  when  at  last  thy  toils  hut  ill  apaid 
"  Shall  dead  thy  f)re,"and  damp  its  lieavenly  spark, 
■'  Thou  wilt  be  glad  to  seek  the  rural  shade, 
"  Thi^re  to  indulge  the  Muse,  and  Nature  mark  ; 

"  We  then  a  lodge  for  thee  will  rear  in  Hagley  Park  ' 
LXVII. 
Here  whilom  Hgg'd  th'  Escpus*  of  the  age ; 
But  call'd  by  fame,  in  soul  ypricked  deep, 
A  noble  pride  restor'd  him  to  the  stage, 
And  rous'd  him  like  a  giant  from  his  sleep. 
E'en  from  his  slumbers  we  advantage  reap  ; 
With  double  force  th'  enliven'd  scene  he  wakes. 
Yet  quits  not  nature's  bounds.     He  knows  to  keep 
Each  due  decorum  :  Now  the  heart  he  shakes, 

And  now  with  well-urg'd  sense  the  enlighten' djudgmtnl 
takes. 

I.XVIII. 
A  bard  here  dwelt,  more  fut  uhs.n  bard  beseems; 
Whot  void  of  envy,  guile,  and  lust  of  gain. 
On  virtue  still,  and  nature's  pleasing  themes, 
Pour'd  forth  his  unpremeditated  strain  : 
The  world  forsaking  with  a  calm  disdain, 
Here  lau^h'd  he  careless  in  his  easy  seat ; 
Here  quaffd,  encircled  with  the  joyous  train, 
Of  moralizing  sage :  his  ditty  sweet 
He  loathed  much  to  write,  ne  cared  to  repeat. 

*  Mr.  Quin. 

t  The  following  lines  of  this  stanza  were  written  by  ii 
friend  of  the  author. 


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LXIX. 

Full  oft  by  holy  feel  our  ground  was  trod, 

Of  clerks  good  plenty  here  you  mote  espy. 

A  little,  round,  fat,  oily  man  of  God, 

Was  one  I  chiefly  niark'd  among  the  fry  ; 

He  had  a  rojruish  twinkle  in  his  eye, 

And  shone  all  glittering  with  nnsodly  dew, 

If  a  tiaht  damsel  chaunc'd  to  trippen  by  ; 

Which,  when  observ'd,  he  shrunk  into  his  mew, 

And  straight  would  recollect  his  piety  anew. 
LXX. 
Nor  be  forgot  a  tribe  who  minded  naught 
(Old  inmates  of  the  place)  but  state-atfairs  : 
They  look'd,  perdie,  as  if  they  deeply  thought; 
And  on  their  brow  sat  every  nation's  cares. 
The  world  by  them  is  parcell'd  out  in  shares, 
When  in  the  Hall  of  ^moke  they  congress  hold, 
And  the  sage  berry,  sunburnt  jfocha  bears. 
Has  clear'd  their  inward  eye  :  then,  smoke  enroll' d, 

Their  oracles  break  forth  mysterious  as  of  old. 
LXX  I. 
Here  languid  beauty  kept  her  pale  fac'd  court ; 
Bevies  of  dainty  dames>  of  high  degree. 
From  every  quarter  hither  made  resort ; 
Where  from  gross  mortal  care  and  business  free, 
They  lay  pnur'd  out  in  ease  and  luxury. 
Or  should  they  a  vain  show  of  work  assume, 
Alas  !  and  well-a-day  !  what  can  it  be? 
To  knot,  to  twist,  to  range  the  vernal  bloom  ; 

Out  far  is  cast  the  distaff,  spinning  wheel,  and  loom. 
LXXTI. 
Their  only  labour  was  to  kill  the  time  ; 
And  labour  dire  it  is,  and  weary  wo. 
They  sit,  they  loll,  turn  o'er  some  idle  rhyme  ; 
Then,  rising  sudden,  to  the  glasn  they  go. 
Or  saunter  forth,  with  tottering  step,  and  slow  : 
This  soon  too  rude  an  exercise  they  find  ; 
Straight  on  the  couch  (heir  limbs  again  they  throw, 
Where  hours.on  hours  theysishins  lie  reclin'd, 

And  court  the  vapoury  pod  soft  breathing  in  the  wind. 
LXXHI. 
Now  must  T  mark  the  villany  we  found. 
But  ah  !  too  late,  a-  shall  eftsoons  be  shown: 
A  place  here  was,  deep   dreary,  under  eround  ; 
Where  sti'l  our  inmatea  when  unpleasing  grown. 


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THE    SASTLE  >i)F  INDOLENCE. 


170 


Diseas't   »n(l  loatlisonie,  privily  were  thrown. 
Far  from  the  hght  of  heaven,  ihey  languish'd  there, 
Uripilied,  uttering  many  a  bitter  groan  ; 
For  ot  these  wretches  taken  was  no  care  : 

I'ierce  tiends,  and  hags  ot  hell,  their  only  nurses  were 
LXXIV. 
Alas!  the  change!  from  scenes  of  joy  and  rest, 
To  this  dark  den,  where  sickness  toss'd  alway, 
Here  Let/iargy,  with  deadly  sleep  opprest, 
Stretch'd  on  liis  hack,  a  mighty  Inbbard,  lay. 
Heaving  his  sides,  and  snored  night  and  day; 
To  stir  him  from  his  trance  it  was  not  eath. 
And  his  half  open'd  eyne  he  shut  straightway: 
He  led,  I  wot,  the  softest  way  to  death, 

And  taught  withouten  pain  and  strife  to  yield  the  breach 
LXXV. 
Of  limbs  enormous,  but  wi'hal  unsound, 
Soft-swoln  and  pale,  here  lay  the  Hydrupsy: 
Unwieldy  man  ;  with  belly  monstrous  round, 
For  ever  fed  with  watery  supply  : 
For  still  he  drank,  and  yet  he  still  was  dry. 
And  moping  here  did  Hypochondria  sit. 
Mother  of  spleen,  in  robes  of  various  die, 
Who  vexed  was  full  oft  with  ugiy  fit ; 

And  sonie  her  frantic  deem'd,  and  some  her  deem'd  a  wit 
LXXVI. 
A  lady  proud  she  was,  of  ancient  blood. 
Yet  ofHier  fear  her  pride  made  coiichen  low  : 
She  felt,  or  fancied,  in  her  Huttering  mood, 
-All  the  disca>es  which  the  spittles  know. 
And  sought  all  physic  whicii  the  -lu^ps  bestow, 
And  still  new  leeches  and  nev/  drugs  would  try, 
Her  humoiu-  ever  wavering  to  and  fro; 
For  sometimes  she  would  lausli,  and  sometimes  cry, 

Then  sudden  waxed  wroth,  and  al'  sUie  knew  not  why. 
LXXVH. 
Fast  by  her  side  a  listless  maiden  pin'd, 
With  aching  head,  and  squeamish  heart-burning; 
Pale,  bloated,  cold,  she  seem'd  to  hate  mankind. 
Yet  lov'd~in  secret  all  forbidden  thinirs. 
And  h.re  ihe  Tertian  shakes  his  chilling  wings; 
The  sleepless  Govt  here  counts  the  crowing  cocks, 
A  wolf  now  gnaws  him,  now  a  serpent  stings; 
While  .^poplezv  cramm'd  intemperance  knock's 
own  t-  thefli-Quud  at  once,  as  butcher  felleth  ox. 


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CANTO  II 


The  knight  of  arts  and  Industry, 
And  his  acliievenicnis  fair  ; 

That,  by  this  castle's  overthrow, 
Secur'd  and  crowned  were. 


I. 

Escap't)  the  castle  of  the  sire  of  sin, 
Ah  :  where  shall  I  so  sweet  a  dwellinji  find? 
For  all  around,  without,  and  all  within, 
Notliiiiir  save  what  (ielJKhtfiil  was  and  kind, 
Of  goodness  savouring  and  a  tender  iniiid, 
E'er  rose  to  view.     But  now  another  strain, 
Of  doleful  note,  alas!  remains  behind: 
I  now  must  sin>;  of  pleasure  turn'd  to  pain, 

And  of  the  false  enchanter  Indolence  complain. 
IT. 
Is  there  no  patron  to  protect  the  muse, 
And  fence  for  her  Parnnssvs'  barren  scil  ? 
To  every  labotir  its  reward  accrues, 
And  tliey  are  sure  ol'l)r<'ad  Who  swink  md  moi!; 
But  a  fell  tribe  tli'  .Ionian  liiv  despoil, 
As  ruthless  wasps  oft  rob  iIk;  painful  bee: 
Thus  while  the  laws  not  suanl  that  noblest  toil, 
Ne  for  the  muses  other  meed  decree, 

They  praised  are  alone,  and  starve  right  merrily. 
III. 
I  care  not,  fortune,  what  you  me  d'^ny : 
You  cannot  rob  me  office  iiature's  arace  ; 
You  cannot  jhnt  the  windows  of  the  skv. 
Through  which  jiurora  shows  her  brigiiteiiing  fac« 


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THE  CASTLE 


You  cannot  bar  my  coi>stant  feet  to  trace 
The  woods  and  lawns,  by  living  stream,  at  eve; 
Let  ht  alih  my  nerves  and  liner  fibres  brace, 
And  1  their  toys  to  the  great  children  leave  : 

Of  fancy,  reason,  virtue,  naught  can  me  bereave. 
IV. 
Come  then,  my  Muse,  and  raise  a  bolder  song ; 
Come,  lig  no  more  upon  thp  bed  of  sloth, 
Draggiiiir  the  lazy  laneuid  line  along, 
Fond  to  begin,  but  still  to  tinish  loth. 
Thy  half-writ  scrolls  all  eaten  by  tiie  moth: 
Arise,  and  sir;gtliat  generous  imp  of  fame. 
Who  with  the  son?  of  softness  nobly  wroth. 
To  sweep  away  this  human  lumber  came, 

Or  in  a  chosen  few  to  rouse  the  slumbering  flame. 
V. 
In  Fairy  Land  there  liv'd  a  knight  of  old. 
Of  feature  stern,  Selvagirio  well  yclep'd, 
A  rotigh  unpoltsh'd  man,  robust  and  bold, 
But  wondrous  poor  :  he  neither  sow'd  nor  reap'd, 
Nc  stores  in  sunmier  for  cold  winter  heap'd ; 
In  hunting  all  his  days  away  he  wore  ; 
Now  scorch'd  by  June,  now  in  A^oKf ?rtZicr  steep'd 
Now  pinch'd  by  biting  January  sore. 

He  still  in  woods  pursutd  the  li jbard  and  the  boar 
VI. 
As  he  one  morning,  long  before  the  dawn, 
Prick'd  throuiih  the  forest  to  dislodge  his  prey, 
Drep  in  the  winding  bosom  of  a  lawn. 
With  wood  wild-fring'd,  he  mark'd  a  taper's  ray, 
That  from  the  beatin«  rain,  and  wintry  fray, 
Did  to  a  lonely  oot  his  steps  decoy  ; 
There,  up  to  earn'  the  needments  of  the  day, 
Me  found  dame  Poverty,  not  fair  nor  coy : 

Her  lie  compress'd  and  fill'd  her  with  a  lusty  boy. 
VII. 
Amid  the  greenwood  sliade  this  boy  was  bred, 
A  nd  2rew  at  last  a  knight  of  muchel  fame. 
Of  active  mind  and  vigorous  lustyhed, 
T/u  Kvia-ht  of  .^rts  anti  Industry,  by  name. 
Earth  was  his  bed,  the  boughs  his  roof  did  frame. 
Ho  knew  no  beverage  but  the  flowing  stream ; 
His  tasteful  woll-earn'd  food  the  sylvan  game. 
Or  the  bown  fruit  with  which  the  vvondlands  teem 
The  same  to  him  glad  summer,  or  the  winter  breme 


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OF  INDOLENCE. 
VIIT. 


So  pass'd  his  youthful  morning  void  of  care, 

Wild  as  the  colt*:  that  through  the  commons  ru  \ : 

For  him  no  tender  parents  troubled  were, 

He  of  the  forest  seem'd  to  be  the  son. 

And  certes  had  been  utterly  undone  ; 

But  that  Minerva  pity  of  him  took, 

With  all  the  gods  that  love  the  rural  w<>nne, 

That  teach  to  tame  the  soil  and  rule  the  crook  ; 

/e  did  the  sacred  JSine  disdain  a  gentle  look. 
IX. 
Of  fertile  genius  him  they  nurtur'd  well, 
In  every  science,  and  in  every  art. 
By  which  mankind  the  ihouL'htless  brutes  excel. 
Thai  can  or  use,  or  joy,  or  grace  impart. 
Disclosing  all  ilie  powers  of  head  and  heart: 
Ne  were  the  goodly  exercises  spai'd, 
That  brace  th.e  nerves,  or  make  the  limbs  alert. 
And  mix  elastic  force  with  firnmess  hard  : 

Vas  never  knight  on  g.round  moie  be  with  him  compar  d. 

Sometimes,  with  early  morn,  he  mounted  gay 
The  hunter-steed,  exulting  o'er  the  dale, 
And  drew  the  roseate  bieath  of  orient  day  ; 
Sometimes,  retiring  to  the  secret  vale, 
Yclad  in  steel,  and  bright  with  bui-nisli'd  mail, 
He  strain'd  tlie  bow,  or  tossM  the  sriunding  spear, 
Or  darting  on  tlie  goal  outstripp'd  the  gale, 
Or  wheel'd  the  chariot  in  its  mid-career, 
)r  strenuous  wrestled  hard  witli  many  a  tough  compopi 

At  other  times  he  pried  through  nature's  store, 
Whate'er  she  in  th'  ethereal  round  contains, 
Whate'er  she  hides  beneath  her  verdant  floor. 
The  vesetahle  and  the  miiieral  reigns  ; 
Or  else  he  scann'd  tne  G!<ibe,  those  small  domains, 
Where  restless  mortals  such  a  turmoil  keep, 
Its  seas,  its  floods,  its  mountains,  and  i^s  plains; 
But  more  he  search'd  the  mind,  and  rons'd  from  sleei 
'  hose  moral  seeds  whence  we  heroic  actions  reap. 
XIT. 
Nor  would  he  scorn  to  stoop  from  high  pursuits 
Of  heavenly  truth,  and  practise  what  she  thought 
V^ain  is  the  tree  of  knowledge  wi'hout  fruits, 
Sometime  3  in  hand  the  spade  or  plough  he  caught. 


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Forth-caHin£,  al;  with  which  boon  earth  is  fraught, 
Sometimes  ht  plied  tiie  strong  mechanic  tool, 
Or  rear"d  the  fabric  from  the  finest  draught; 
And  oft  he  put  himself  to  JVeptune's  school, 
Fighting  with  winds  and  waves  on  the  vext  ocean  port, 

xin. 

To  solace  then  these  roug.her  toils,  he  tried 
To  toucli  the  kindling  canvass  into  life  ; 
With  nature  his  creating  pencil  vied, 
With  nature  joyous  at  the  mimic  strife  : 
Or,  to  such  shapes  as  grac'd  Pygmalion's  wife, 
He  hew'd  the  marble  :  or,  witli  varied  fire, 
He  rous'd  the  trumpet  and  the  martial  fife. 
Or  bade  the  lute  sweet  tenderness  inspire. 

Or  verses  fram'd  that  well  might  wake  Jlpollo's  lyre.     . 
XIV. 
Acconiplish'd  thus  he  from  the  woods  issued, 
Full  of  great  aims,  and  bent  on  bold  emprize; 
The  work,  which  long  he  in  his  breast  had  brew'd, 
Now  to  perl'orm  he  ardent  did  devise  ; 
To  wit,  a  barbarous  world  to  civilize. 
Earth  was  till  then  a  boundless  forest  wild  ; 
Naught  to  be  seen  but  savage  wood,  and  skies; 
No  cities  nourish'd  arts,  no  culture  smil'd, 

No  government,  no  laws,  no  gentle  manners  mild. 
XV. 
A  rugged  wight,  the  worst  of  brutes,  was  man  ; 
On  his  own  wretched  kind  he,  ruthless,  prey'd : 
The  strongest  siill  the  weakest  overran  ; 
In  every  country  mighty  robbers  sway'd, 
And  guile  and  rufiian  force  were  all  their  trade. 
Life  was  a  scene  of  rapine,  want,  and  wo  ; 
Which  this  brave  knight,  in  noble  anger,  made 
To  swear,  he  would  the  rascal  rout  o'erthrow. 

For,  by  the  powers  divine,  it  should  iio  more  be  so! 
XVI. 
It  would  e.xceed  the  ptirport  of  my  song, 
To  say  how  this  he.st  Sun,  from  orient  climes 
Came  beaming  life  and  beauty  all  along, 
Before  him  chasing  indolence  and  crimes. 
Still  as  he  pass'd,  the  nations  he  sublimes, 
And  calls  forth  arts  and  virtues  with  his  ray: 
Then  Effijpt,  Greece,  and  Rome,  their  golden  times, 
Successive,  had  ;  but  now  in  ruins  gray 

They  lie,  to  sIj  vL-h  sloth  and  tyranny  a  "prey. 


Kh" 


X4 


b, 


i 


XVIT. 

To  crown  his  toils,  .^iV  hidustry  tlien 

Tiie  swel'ins;  sail  and  made  for  Britain' 

A  sylvan  life  till  then  the  natives  led, 

In  the  hroun  shades  and  sreen-wood  forest  lost, 

All  carele.-:s  rambling  where  it  lik'd  them  most : 

Their    wealth  the   wild    deer,  bouncing  through  th« 

glade ; 
They  lody'd  at  larse,  and  liv'd  at  nature's  cost; 
Save  spear  and  bow  \yiThowten  otiier  aid  ; 
Fetnot  the  Iloman  steef  their  naked  breast  dismay'd 

xviir. 

He  likM  the  soil,  he  lik'd  the  element  skies, 
ffe  lik'd  the  verdant  hills  and  flowery  plains  ; 
Ee  this  my  sreat,  my  chosen  isle  (he  cries) 
This,  whilst  niy  labours  Liberti;  sustains, 
This  queen  of  ocean  all  assault  disdains. 
Nor  lik'd  he  less  the  senilis  of  the  land, 
To  freedom  apt,  and  persevering  pains, 
Mild  to  obey,  and  seneroiis  to  command, 

Temper'd    by   forming   Heaven  with     kindest    firinwl 
hand. 

XIX. 
Here,  by  decrees,  his  master-work  arose, 
Whatever  arts  and  industry  can  frame: 
Whatever  finish'd  asriculture  knows. 
Fair  queen  of  arts  I  from  heaven  iiself  who  came, 
When  Fden  fionrish'd  in  unspotted  fame: 
And  siill  with  her  sweet  innocence  we  find, 
And  tender  peace,  and  joys  without  a  name, 
That,  while  they  ravish,  tranquillize  the  mind: 

Nature  and  art  at  once,  delight  and  use  combin'd. 
XX. 
Then  towns  he  quicken'd  by  mecI-.-anic  arts, 
And  'i,ade  the  fer;-ent  city  ginw  with  toi! ; 
Rade  social  commerce  raise  renowned  marts, 
Join  land  to  la^d,  and  many  soil  to  soil, 
Unite  the  pol<i3,  and  without  bloody  spoil 
Bring  home  of  either  Ind  the  gorgeous  stores ; 
Or,  should  despotic  rase  the  world  embroil, 
Bade  tyrants  tremble  on  remotest  shores, 

While    o'er  th'   encircling  de»7    Britannia's  thunder 
roars 


h 


1^ 


THE  CASTLE. 

XXI. 

The  droopini;  muses  then  lie  westward  cal  d, 

From  the  faiu'd  city*  bv  Propontick  sea, 

What  tmie  tlie  Turk  th'  enfeebled  Grecian  thrili  d; 

Thence  from  their  cloister'd  wallis  he  set  them  free, 

And  brought  tliem  to  another  Castalie, 

Where  Isis  many  a  famous  noursling  breeds; 

Or  where  old  Cam  soft-paces  o'er  the  lea 

In  pensive  mood,  and  tunes  his  Doric  reeds, 

4>'he  whilst  his  flocks  at  large  the  lonely  shepherd  feeds. 
XXII. 
Yet  the  fine  arts  were  what  he  finish'd  least. 
For  why  1    They  are  the  quintessence  of  all, 
The  growth  of  labouring  time,  and  slow  incrcaat; 
Unless,  as  seldom  chances,  it  should  fall, 
That  mifrhty  patrons  the  coy  sisters  call 
Up  to  the  sunshine  of  uncumber'd  ease. 
Where  no  rude  care  the  mounting  thought  may  thrall, 
And  where  they  nothing  have  to  do  but  please  : 

Ah!   gracious  God!  thou    know'st    they  ask  no   other 
fees. 

XXIIT. 
But  now,  alas  !  we  live  too  l»le  in  timt: 
Our  patrons  now  even  grudge  that  little  claim, 
Except  to  such  as  sleek  the  soothing  rhyme  ; 
And  yet,  forsooth,  they  wear  McBcenas'  name, 
Poor  sons  of  puft-up  vanity,  not  fame. 
Unbroken  spirits,  cheer  !  still,  still  remains 
Tir  Eternal  Patron,  Libert^i;  whose  flame. 
While  she  protects,  inspires  the  noblest  strains, 
The  best,  and  sweetest  far,  are  toil-created  gains 

XXIV. 
When  as  the  knight  had  fram'd,  in  Britain- Land^ 
A  matchless  form  of  glorious  government. 
In  which  the  sovereign  laws  alone  coinmai  d, 
Laws  stablish'd  by  the  public  free  consent, 
Whose  majesty  is  to  the  sceptre  lent  ; 
When  this  great  plan,  with  each  dependent  art, 
Was  settled  firm,  and  to  his  heart's  content, 
Then  sought  he  from  the  toilsome  scene  to  part, 

And   let    life's    vacant  eve   breathe  quiet  through  the 
heart. 


^\ 


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^ 


XXV. 
For  this  he  chose  a  farm  in  Dcva's  va!e. 
Where  his  long  alleys  peep'd  upon  the  main 
In  this  calm  seat  he  dn-w  the  healthful  gale, 
Here  mix'd  the  chief,  the  patriot,  and  the  swain. 
The  happy  monarch  of  his  sylvan  train, 
Here,  sided  by  the  guardians  of  the  fold, 
He  walk'd  his  rounds,  and  cheer'd  ))is  hiest  domain : 
His  days,  the  days  of  unstain'd  nature,  roll'd, 
Replete  with  peace  and  joy,  like  patriarchs  of  old. 

XXV  r. 

Witness,  ye  lowing  herds,  who  gave  him  milk  ; 
Witness,  ye  flocks,  whose  woolly  vestments  far 
Exceed  soft  India's  cotton,  or  her  silk  ; 
Witness,  with  autumn  charg'd,  the  nodding  car, 
That  homeward  came  beneath  sweet  evening  star, 
Or  Qf  Spptrniber-moons  the  radiance  mild. 

0  hide  thy  head,  abominable  war! 

Of  crimes  and  ruffian  idleness  the  child  ! 
Trora  heaven  this  life  yspruns,  from  hell  thy  glories  vUd 
XXVIT. 

Nor  from  his  deep  retirement  banish'd  was 

Th'  amusing  care  of  rural  industiy. 

Still,  as  with  grateful  change  the  seasons  pass. 

New  scenes  arise,  new  landskips  strike  the  eye, 

And  all  th'  enliven'd  country  beautify : 

Gay  plains  extend  where  marshes  slept  before: 

O'er  recent  meads  th'  exulting  streamlets  fly  ; 

Dark  frowninc  heaths  grow  bright  with  Ceres'  store, 

And  woods  imhrown  the  steep,  or  wave  along  the  shore 

XXVIII. 

As  Tlearer  to  his  farm  you  made  approach, 

He  polish'd  nature  wiih  a  finer  hand. 

Yet  on  her  beauties  durst  not  art  encroach  ; 

'Tis  art's  alone  the  beauties  to  expand: 

In  graceful  dance  immingled,  o'er  the  land, 

Pan,  Poles,  Flora,  and  I'oviova  play'd : 

Here  too  bri-k  cales  the  rude  wild  common  fann'd, 

An  happy  place  :  where  free,  and  unafraid, 
Amid  the  flowing  brakes  each  coyer  creature  stray'd. 
XXIX. 

But  in  prime  vigour  what  c.-in  last  for  aye? 

That  sonl-enfepbling  wizard  Indolmce, 

1  whilnm  sunsr.  wruutijl  in  his  works  decay: 
Spread  far  ai  1  wide  wa«  his  <uis'd  influence; 

M 


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Of  public  virtue  mucli  he  dull'd  the  sense, 
E'en  much  of  private  ;  eat  our  spirit  out, 
And  fed  our  rank  luxurious  vices  ;  whence 
The  land  was  overlaid  with  maiiy  a  lout;    , 

^fot,  as  old  fame  reports,  wise,  generous,  bold,  and  t\a\xi. 
XXX. 
A  ra^e  of  pleasure  madden'd  ever)'  breast, 
Down  to  the  lowest  lees  the  ferment  ran : 
To  his  licentious  wish  each  must  be  blest, 
With  joy  be  fever'd ;  match  it  as  he  can. 
Thus  Vjce  the  standaid  rear'd  ;  her  arrier  ban 
Corruption  call'd,  and  loud  she  ^ave  the  word, 
"  Mind,  mind  yourselves!  why  should  the  vulgar  man 
"  The  lacquey  be  more  virtuous  than  his  lord  1 

"  Enjoy  tliis  span  of  life!  'tis  all  the  gods  alford." 

xxxr. 

The  tidinjrs  reach'd  to  where,  in  quiet  hall, 
The  good  oid  knight  enjoy'd  well-farn'd  repose: 
"  Come,  come,  t^ir  Knight ;  thy  children  on  thee  call  i 
"  Come,  save  us  yet,  ere  ruin  round  us  close  I 
"  The  demon  Indolence  thy  toils  o'erthrows." 
On  this  the  noble  colour  siam'd  his  clieeks : 
Indignant,  glowing  through  the  whitening  snow 
Of  venerabl<;  eld  ;  his  eye  full-speaks 
His  ardent  soul,  and  from  his  couch  at  once  he  breaks. 

xxxii. 

I  will,  ^he  cried,)  so  help  me  God  :  destroy 
That  villain  Archimage.— His  pase  then  straieht 
He  to  him  call'd,  a  fiery-footed  tuiy, 
>enempt  Despatch.     "  My  s-eed  bi;  at  the  gate; 
*'  aSy  bard  attend  ;  quick,  brina  the  net  of  fate." 
This  net  was  twisted  by  the  si--t'Ts  three  ; 
Which  when  once  cast  o'er  harden'd  wretch  too  rate 
Repentance  comes  ;  replevy  cannot  be 
From  the  strong  iron  grasp  of  vengeful  destiny. 
XXXIII. 
He  c^.me,  the  bard,  a  little  druid  wicht, 
Of  wither'd  aspect;  but  his  eye  was  keen, 
With  sweetness  mix'd.     In  russet  brown  bedigbi. 
As  is  his  sister*  of  the  copses  green, 


c 


*The  Nightingale. 

3i    -.  ^xi^ 


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He  crept  along,  unpromisintr  of  mien. 
Gross  he  who  judges  so.     His  soul  was  fair, 
Bright  as  the  children  of  yon  azure  sheen, 
Trii'' comeliness,  whic'h  notlilng  can  impair, 

Dwells  in  the  mind  :  all  else  is  vanity  and  glare. 
XXXIV. 
Come,  (quoth  the  knight,)  a  voice  has  reach'd  mine  ear ' 
The  demon  Indulevce  threats  overthrow 
To  all  tiiat  to  mankind  is  good  and  dear; 
Come  Pliili/iiieliis ;  let  us  instant  go, 
O'erturn  his  bowers,  and  lay  h  s  castle  low. 
Those  men,  those  wretched  men  !  who  zciiZ  be  slaves. 
Must  drink  a  bitter  wrathful  cup  of  wo: 
But  some  there  be,  thy  song,  as  from  iheir  graves, 

BhaM  raise.    Thrice  happv  le  :  who  without  rigour  saves, 
XXXV. 
Issuing  forth,  the  knight  bestrode  his  steed, 
Of  ardent  bay,  and  on  whose  front  a  star 
Shone  blazing  briiiht :  sprung  from  the  generous  breed 
That  whirl  of  active  day  the  rapid  car, 
Hr  pranc'd  along  disdainit-g  gate  or  bar. 
Meantime,  the  baid  on  niilk-wijite  palfrey  rode  ; 
An  hotiest,  sober  beast,  that  did  not  mar 
His  meditations,  but  full  softly  trc  de: 

And  much  they  moraliz'd  as  thus  yfere  they  yode. 
XXXVI. 
They  talk'd  of  virtue,  and  of  human  bliss, 
Wnat  else  so  fit  for  man  to  settle  well  ? 
And  still  their  Ions:  researches  met  in  this, 
This  Truth  of  Truths,  which  nothing  can  refel ; 
"  From  virtue's  foiiru  the  purest  joys  out-well, 
"  Sweet  rills  of  thought  that  cheer  the  conscious  soul 
"  While  vice  pours  forth  the  troubled  streams  of  hell, 
"The  which,  howe'er  disguis'd,  at  last  with  dole 

"  Will  thro'  the  tortur'd  breast  their  fiery  torrent  roll.' 
XXXVII. 
At  length  it  dawn'd,  that  fatal  valley  gay, 
O'er  which  high  wond-crown'd  hills  iheir  summits  rear 
On  the  cool  height  a  while  our  palmers  stay, 
And  spite  e'en  of  themselves  their  senres  cheer  : 
Then  to  the  w  izard's  wonne  their  *;teps  they  steer. 
Like  a  gieen  isle,  it  bioad  beneath  them  spread, 
Willi  wardens  round,  and  wandering  currents  cKar, 
And  tufted  groves  to  shade  the  mearinw-bf  d. 


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XXXVI':!. 

'  As  God  shall  jal^e  m-^,  kiii^'lit.  we  must  forgive.* 

(The  half  enraptur'd  Pkiloiueius  cried  i 

"  The  frail  good  man  :le!n:led  iiere  to  live, 

"  And  in  these  groves  hi<  masins  fancy  hi  le. 

"  Ah  I  naught  is  pure.     It  cannot  be  denied, 

"  That  virtue  still  some  tincture  has  of  vice, 

"  And  vice  of  virtue.     VVliai  s^iouid  then  betide, 

"  But  that  our  charity  be  not  too  nice  ? 

*'  Come,  let  us  those  vve  c:in  to  real  bliss  eutice." 
XXXIX. 
"  Ay,  sicker,  'quoth  the  knight,)  all  fiesli  is  frail, 
"  To  pleasant  sin  and  joyous  dalliance  bent; 
*'  But  let  not  brutish  vice  of  thi^  avail, 
"  And  think  to  'scape  deserved  ])uni»hment. 
"  Justice  were  cruel  weakly  to  relent : 
"  From  Mercy's  self  she  got  her  sacred  glaive  : 
"  Grace  be  to  those  who  can,  and  will,  repent; 
"  But  penance,  long  and  dreary,  to  the  slave, 

"  Who  must  in  floods  of  tire  his  (rross  foal  spirit  lavs.' 
XL.^ 
Thus,  holding  high  discourse,  they  came  to  where 
The  cursed  carle  was  at  his  wonted  trade ; 
Still  tempting  heedless  men  into  his  snare, 
In  witching  wise,  as  I  before  have  said. 
Biit  when  lie  saw,  in  goodly  geer  array'd, 
The  grave  majestic  knight  approaching  nigh, 
And  by  his  side  the  bard  so  sage  ami  staid, 
His  countenance  fell ;  yet  oft  his  anxious  eye 

Mark'd  them,  like  wily  fox  who  roosted  cock  doth  spif 
XL! 
Nathless,  with  feijn'd  respect,  be  bade  sfive  hack 
The  rabble-rout,  and  weleom'd  them  full  kind; 
Struck  with  tlie  noble  twain,  they  were  not  slack 
His  orders  to  obey,  and  fall  bthind. 
'J'hen  he  resum'd  his  sons;  and  uneonfin'd, 
Ponr'd  all  his  music,  ran  Tlirnuir!i  all  hiss'rings: 
With  magic  dusk  their  eyne  ne  tries  to  blind, 
And  virtue's  tender  airs  o'er  weakness  flings.       N 

What  pity  base  his  song  who  so  ;J;vmeiy  suigs  ! 
XLII. 
Elate  in  thought,  he  counted  tliem  his  own, 
They  listen'd  so  intent  with  fi.x'd  delight; 
But  they  instead    a=  if  Iransiiisw'd  'o  stone, 
Marveii'd  he  ccisiid  with  such  sweei  art  unite 


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V 

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Th    fights  and  shades  of  manners,  wrona  and  right. 
Me.  mime,  the  siiiy  crowii  uie  charm  devour, 
VVu*"  pressing  to  the  gate.     Swift  on  the  knight 
Fie  darted  fierce,  to  dtag  hini  to  his  bower. 

Who  back'ning  shunn'd  his  touch,  for  well  he  knew  its 
power. 

XLlil. 
As  in  throng'd  amphitheatre  of  old, 
The  war}'*  Rctiariu.t  traj.p'd  his  foe; 
E'en  so  the  kniglit  returning  on  him  bold, 
At  once  invoh  'd  him  in  the  A'ef  of  Wo, 
Whereof  1  mention  made  not  long  ago. 
Enrag'd  at  first,  he  scorn'd  m  weak  a  jail, 
And  leapt,  and  flew,  and  (iounced  to  and  fro; 
But  when  he  found  that  nothing  could  avail, 

He  set  him  felly  down  and  imaw'd  his  bitter  nail. 
XL  IV. 
Alarm'd,  the  inferior  demons  of  the  place 
Rais'd  rueful  shrieks  and  hideous  yells  aroijnd; 
Black  stormy  clouds  deform'd  the  welkin's  face. 
And  from  beneath  was  heard  a  wailing  sound, 
As  of  infernal  spri^lits  in  cavern  bound  ; 
A  solemn  sadness  every  crcaf.ire  strook, 
And  lightnings  flash'd,  and  horror  rock'd  the  ground  : 
Huge  crowds  on  crowds  out  pour'd,  with  blemish'd 
look, 

As  if  on  time's  last  verse  this  frame  of  things  had  shook, 
XLV.    . 
Soon  as  the  sliort-liv'd  tempest  was  yspcnt, 
St(  am'd  from  the  jaws  of  vext  Averiius'  hole. 
And  liush'd  the  hiilibuhof  the  rabblement. 
Sir  Industry  the  fiist  cahn  moment  stole. 
"There  must,  (he  cried,)  an*id  so  vast  a  shoal, 
"  Be  some  who  are  not  tainted  at  the  heart, 
"  Not  poison'd  quite  by  this  same  villain's  bowl: 
"  Come  then  my  bard,  thy  heavenly  fire  impart ; 

"  Touch  soul  with  soul,  till  forth  the  latent  spirit  siart.' 
XLVI. 
The  bard  obey'd  ;  and  taking  from  his  side, 
Where  it  in  seemly  sort  depending  hung, 
His  British  harp,  its  speaking  strings  he  tried. 
The  which  with  skilful  touch  he  deffly  strung, 

*  A  eladiator,  who  made  use  of  a  net,  which  he  threw 
over  his  adversary. 


If 

'§9 


tinkling  in  clear  pympiiony  thty  run;* 

n,  as  he  felt  tlie  Muses  come  along, 
Light  o'er  the  chords  his  raptur'd  hand  he  flung, 
And  play'd  a  prelude  to  his  rising  song: 
rhe  whilst,  like  midnight  mute,  ten  thousands  round  hina 

throng. 

XLvn. 

Thus  ardent  burst  his  strain. 

"  Ye  hapless  race, 
•'  Dire-lahourins  here  to  smother  reason's  ray, 
"That  lielits  our  Maker's  image  iu  our  face, 
"  And  gives  us  wide  o'er  earth  unquestion'd  sway; 
•'  What  is  th'  ador'd  supreme  Perfection,  say? 
"  What,  but  eternal  never-re.<tin2  soul, 
"  Ahniuhty  power,  and  all  directing  day  ; 

'  By  w.'ioin  each  atom  stirs,  the  planets  roll ; 

*^ho  fills,  surrounds,  iufurms,  and  agitates  the  whole 
XLVIII. 
"^ome,  to  the  beaming  God  your  hearts  unfold  ! 
'    M-aw  from  its  fountain  life  !    'Tis  thence,  alone, 
'   \^'e  can  excel.     Up  from  unfeeling  mould, 
*' To  seraphs  burning  round  th'  Abniirhty's  throne. 
"  Life  rising  still  on  life,  in  higher  tone, 
"  Perfection  forms,  and  with  perfection  bliss. 
"In  universal  nature  this  clear  shown, 
"  Not  needeth  proof;  to  prove  it  were,  I  wis, 
"  To  prove  the  beauteous  world  excels  the  brute  abvsa 
XLIX. 
"  Is  not  the  field,  with  lively  culture  green, 
"  A  sight  more  joyous  than  tlie  dead  morass? 
"  Do  not  the  skies  with  active  ctlier  clean, 
"  And  fann'd  by  sprightly  Zephyrs,  far  surpass 
"  The  foul  November  fogs,  and  slumbrous  mass, 
''  With  which  sad  nature  veils  her  drooping  face  ? 
"  Does  not  the  mountain-stream,  as  clear  as  glass, 

'  Gay-dancing  on,  the  putrid  pool  disgrace  1 

The  same  in  all  holds  true,  but  chief  in  human  race 

L. 
"  It  was  not  by  ^ile  loitering  and  ease, 
"  That  Greece  obtain'd  the  brighter  palm  of  art, 
"  That  sotl  but  ardent  Athens  learn'd  to  please, 
*'•  To  keen  the  w:'t  and  to  sublime  the  heart. 


«f 


■^^ 


'k 

?<•>» 


1 


^J' 


OF  IXDOLExVCE. 

In  all  supreme  !  complete  in  every  part! 
"  It  was  not  tliejice  majestic  Rome  arose, 
"  And  o'er  the  nations  shook  her  conqueriig  dart: 
"  For  sluggard's  brow  the  laurel  never  grows  ; 

•*  Renown  is  not  lie  child  of  indolent  renust. 
LI. 
"  Had  unanilntiii.?  mortals  minded  naught, 
"  But  in  loose  joy  their  time  to  wear  awaj' ; 
•'  Had  they  alone  the  lap  of  dalliance  sou^'ht, 
"  Pleas'd  on  her  pillow  their  dull  heads  to  lay, 
"  Rude  nature's  state  had  been  our  slate  to-day; 
"  No  cities  e'er  their  towcry  fronts  had  rais'd, 
"  No  arts  had  made  us  opulent  and  gay  ; 
"  Wiih  hrotl,er-bruf(s  the  human  race  had  jraz'd  ; 

•*  None  e'er  had  soar'd  to  fame,  none  honoui  'd  been,  non- 
prais'd. 

LH. 
"  Great  Homer^s  song  had  never  fir'd  the  breast 
"To  thirst  ofiilor>',  and  heroic  deeds; 
"  Pwrel  Jilaro's  muse,  sunk  in  inglorious  rest, 
"  Had  silent  slept  amid  the  Mincian  reeds : 
"  The  wils  of  modf  rn  lime  had  told  their  beads, 
"  And  monkisii  legends  been  their  only  strains  ; 
"  Our  .Milton'' s  Eden  had  lain  wrapt  in  weeds,  f  swains, 
''Our  Shakspeare  stroll'd  and  laugh'd  with  Warwick 
"  Ne  had  my  master  Spevser  charm'd  his  Mullas  plains. 

LIII. 
"  Dumb  too  had  been  the  sage  historic  muse, 
"  And  perish'd  a!l  the  sons  of  ancient  l"ame  ; 
"  Those  starry  lights  of  virtue,  that  diffuse 
"  Through  the  dark  depih  of  time  their  vivid  flame, 
"  Had  all  been  lost  with  such  as  have  no  name. 
"  Who  then  had  scorn'd  his  ease  for  other's  good  ? 
"  Who  then  had  toii'd  rapacious  men  to  tame? 
"  Who  in  !he  public  breacii  devoted  slotxl, 

'And  for  his  country's  caune  been  prodigal  of  blood' 
LIV. 
"  But  should  to  fame  your  hearts  unfe^'ling  be, 
"  If  light  I  read,  you  pleasure  all  n  quire  : 
"  Then  1  ear  low  best  may  be  obtain'd  this  fee, 
"  ITow  best  enjoy'd  this  naUire's'  wide  desire ;  • 

"  Toil,  n-A  be  L'!ad  I  let  industry  inspire 
''  Into  your  quicken'd  limits  her  buoyant  breaH  1 
"  Who  does  not  act  is  dead  ;  absorpt  entire 
"  In  miry  sloth,  no  pride,  no  joy  he  hath  : 

•  O  leaden-heaiied  nien,  to  be  in  love  wiih  death ! 


1^ 


\,t% 


THE  CASTLK 


"  Ah  !  what  avail  the  largest  gifts  of  Heaven, 

"  When  drooping  heahh  and  spirits  go  amiss  1 

•'  How  tasteless  then  whatever  can  be  given  T 

"  Health  is  the  Vvtal  principle  of  bliss, 

"  And  exercise  of  health.     In  proof  of  this, 

"  Behold  the  wretch,  who  slugs  his  life  away, 

"  Soon  swallow'd  in  disease's  sad  abyss  : 

"  While  he  whom  toil  has  brac'd,  or  manly  play, 

•  Has  light  as  air  each  limb,  each  thought  as  clear  as  daj» 
LVI. 
"  O  who  can  speak  the  vigorous  joys  of  health  ! 
"  Unclogg'd  the  body,  nnobsciir'd  the  mind: 
"  The  morning  rises  gay,  v/ith  pleasing  siealth, 
"  The  temperate  evening  falls  serene  and  kind, 
"  In  health  the  wiser  brutes  true  gladness  find. 
"  See :  how  the  younglings  frisk  along  the  meads 
"  As  May  comes  on,  and  wakes  the  balmy  wind; 
"  Rampant  with  life,  their  joy  all  joy  exceeds: 

'Yet  what  but  high-strung  health  this  dancing  plea 
saunce  breeds  1 

LVII. 
"  But  here,  instead,  is  foster'd  every  ill, 
"  Which  or  disiemper'd  minds  or  bodies  know. 
"  Come  then,  my  kindred  spirits  !  do  not  spill 
"  Your  talents  here.     This  place  te  but  a  sliow, 
"  Whose  charms  delude  you  to  the  den  of  wo : 
"  Come,  follow  me,  I  will  direct  you  right, 
*'  Where  pleasure's  roses,  void  of  serpents,  grow, 
"  Sincere  as  sweet;  come,  followihis  good  knight,  [sight 

'  And  you  will  bless  the  dav  that  brought  him  to  youi 

Lvin 

"  Some  he  will  lead  to  courts,  and  some  to  camps ; 
"  To  senates  some,  and  public  sace  debates, 
"  Where,  by  the  solemn  ;jleam  of  midnight-lamps, 
"  The  world  is  pois'd,  and  mana'i'd  nughty  states; 
"  To  high  discovery  some,  that  new-creates 
"  The  face  of  earth ;  some  to  the  thriving  mart, 
"  Some  to  the  rural  reign,  and  softer  fates ; 
"  To  the  sweet  nnisos  some,  who  raise  the  heart; 
''  AH  glory  sliall  be  vours,  all  nature,  and  all  art. 
LIX. 
*'  There  are,  I  see,  who  listen  to  my  lay, 
"  Wlio  wreiched  sigh  for  virtue,  but  despair : 
"  All  may  be  don  •,  (methinks  I  hear  them  say,) 
**  E'en  death  despis'd  by  generous  actions  fair  • 


7^ 

OF  INI>OLENCE 

"  All  but  for  those  who  to  these  bowers  repair, 
•'  Their  every  power  disgolv'd  in  luxury, 
"  To  quit  of  torpid  sluggishness  the  lair, 
"  And  from  the  powerful  arms  of  sloth  get  free. 

"  'Tis  rising  from  the  dead— Alas  I— it  cannot  be ! 
LX. 
"  Would  you  then  learn  to  dissipate  The  band 
"  Of  these  huge  threatening  diihciilties  dire, 
'■  That  in  the  weak  man's  way  like  lions  stand, 
"  His  soul  appal,  and  damp  his  rising  fire  ? 
"  Resolve,  resolve,  and  to  be  men  aspire.  - 
"  Exert  that  noblest  privilege,  alone, 
"  Here  to  mankind  indulg'd  :  control  desire  ; 
"  Let  godlike  reason,  from  her  sovereign  throne, 

**  Speak  the  commanding  word— I  will !  and  it  is  done. 
LXI. 
"  Heavens !  can  you  tnen  thus  waste,  in  shameful  w/sCj 
•'  Your  few  important  days  of  trial  here  1 
*'  Heirs  of  eternity  !  yborn  to  rise 
"  Through  endless  states  of  being,  still  more  near 
*'  To  bliss  approaching,  and  perfection  clear, 
"  Can  you  rf^.tounce  a  fortune  so  sublime, 
"  Such  glorious  hopes,  your  backward  stops  to  steer, 
"  And  roll,  wiih  vilest  brutes,  through  mu-l  and  slimf  ? 

"No!   no  1— Your    heaven-touch'd    hearts  diMdain    tlvi 
sordid  crime ! 

Lxn. 

"  Enough  !  enough  !"  they  cried— straight. 
The  better  sort  on  wings  of  tran^^jiort  fly : 
As  when  amid  the  lifeless  summits  proud 
Of  Alpine  clitfa,  where  to  the  gelid  sky 
Snows  pil'd  on  snows  in  wintiy  torpor  lie. 
The  rays  divine  of  vernal  Vhcekus  play; 
Th'  awaken'd  heaps,  in  streamlets  from  on  high 
Rous'd  into  aclioii,  lively  leap  away, 
Glad  warbling  through  the  vales,  in  their  new  b'iinffiWy 

Lxm. 

Not  less  the  life,  the  vivid  joy  serene. 

That  lighted  up  these  new  created  men. 

Than  that  which  wings  th'  exulring  spirit  clears, 

When,  just  deliver'd  from  ibis  fle^hy  den, 

Tt  soaring  seeks  its  native  skies  asen  : 

How  light  its  essence  !  how  unclr.g^'d  its  porTers 

Beyond  the  blazon  of  my  mnrlal  pen  I 

F/en  so  we  glad  forsook  these  sinful  bo'ver?, 

'en  such  enraotur'd  lif  ?,  audi  ev::']  wes  op»Si 


from   -I'm 
[crcwrf, 


m 


%. 


k 


^m" 


CI 

V 


if 


41V 


1  . 


M 


•^^ 


Cs 


THE  CASTL5 

LXIV. 
r.iu  far  the  ereate.-  part,  with  rage  inf 
Dire-miiUer'd  curse?,  and  blaspliem'd  lii'.'li  Jov« 
"  Ye  sous  of  hate  !  (they  bitterij'^  exclaiin'd) 
"  VVnal  brought  ynu  to  this  seat  of  peace  and  love? 
"While  witli  kind  nature  liere,  amid  the  grove, 
"  We  pass'd  the  liarmless  sabbath  of  our  time, 
"  Wliat  to  disturb  it  could,  fell  men,  emove 
"  Your  barbarous  hearts  1     Is  llappine^s  a  crime  ? 
Then  do  the  fiends  of  hell  rule  in  you  heaven  sublime.* 

LXV. 
'■  Ye  impious  wretches,"  (quoth  the  knight  in  wrath) 
"  Your  happiness  behold  !"— I'hen  straight  a  wand 
He  wav'd,  an  anti-maaic  power  that  hath, 
Truth  from  illusive  falsehood  so  command. 
Sudden  the  landskip  sinks  on  every  hasid  ; 
On  baleful  Ik  aths  the  grovi  s  all  blacken'd  stand  ; 
The  piire  quick  streams  are  marshy  puddles  found  ; 
And  o'er  the  weedy  foul  abhorred  around,       [around. 

Snakes,  adders,  toads,  each  loathsome  creature  crawls 
LXVI. 
And  here  and  there,  on  trees  by  lightning  scalh'd, 
UiihappiT wights  who  loatlied  life  yhni;g  ; 
Or,  in  fresh  gore  and  recent  murder  bath'd, 
They  w^'ltering  lay;  or  else,  infuriate  flung 
Into  the  gloomy  flood,  while  ravens  sung 
Tiie  funeral  dirge,  they  down  the  torrent  roll'd  : 
'J'hese  by  disttmper'd  blood  to  madness  stung,     [troll'd 
Iladdoom'd  themselves;  whence  oft,  when  night  con- 

Tiie  world,  returning  hilher  their  sad  spirits  howi'd. 
LXVII. 
Meantime  a  movin2  scene  was  open  laid  ; 
That  lazir-house,  I  whilom  in  my  lay 
Dcpainted  have,  iis  horro.-'s  deep  display'd, 
And  gave  unnumber'd  wreichcs  to  the  day, 
Who  tossing  tliere  in  squalid  misery  lay. 
Soon  as  of  sacred  liaht  th'  unwonted  smile 
Pour'd  on  these  living  catacombs  its  ray, 
Tt''-":^^)  the  drear  cavern'=  =*"'*''.^J.rg  many  a  Tr.ile, 

{ne  sick  vr^"U  ^  uieir  heads,  and  droDo'd  their  woeaa 
While. 

T,yVTTT 

•'  J  hea^^n :  {ihey  cried)  and  do  we  once  more  see 

i'on  blessed  sun  zr.J  lins  green  earth  so  fair  ? 
"  *re  \ve  from  noisome  d»u:ps  of  pert  h,-,;w^  fr"" 
'  And  drink  our  souls  the  sweet  ethereal  air  1 


K 


nJ 


a 


* 


f 


"  O  thou  !  or  K  liglit,  or  ?od  !  who  holdest  there 
•'  That  fiend,  O  keep  him  in  eternal  iiiainsl 
"Bui  what  for  us,  ihe  children  of  despair, 
"  Bioutriit  to  tl)e  brink  of  hell,  what  hope  remains  1 
Repentance  does  itself  but  airaravate  our  pains." 

Lxix: 

The  gentle  Knisht,  who  saw  their  rueful  case. 
Let  fall  adown  his  silver  beard  some  tears. 
"  Certes  (quoth  he)  it  is  not  e'en  in  t;race, 
"  T'  undo  tlie  past,  and  eke  your  broken  years ; 
"  N^atliless,  to  nobler  worlds  repentance  rears, 
'   vVith  humble  hope,  her  eye  ;  to  her  is  given 
"  A  power  the  truly  contrite  heart  that  cheers  ; 
"  SJie  quells  the  brand  by  which  the  rocks  are  riven 
'•  She  more  than  aerely  softens,  she  rejoices  Heaven. 
LXX. 
"  Then  patien'  bear  the  sufferings  you  have  earn'd, 
"  And  by  the-e  sufferings  purify  fhe  mind  : 
"  Let  wi-doin  be  by  past  misconduct  learn'd  : 
"  Or  pious  die,  with  penitence  resi^u'd  ; 
'»  And  to  a  life  more  happy  and  refin'd, 
"  Doubt  not,  you  shall,  new  creatures,  yet  aris 
•'  Till  then,  you  may  expect  in  me  to  find 
"  One  who  will  wipe  your  sorrow  from  your  eyes, 

^        •  One  who  will  sooth  your  pangs,  and  wing  you  to  tlje 

S)  skies." 

"^  LXXL 

They  silent  heard,  and  pour'd  their  thanks  in  tears; 
'•  For  you  (resum'd  the  Knii^ht  with  sterner  tone) 
"Whose  hard  dry  hearts  th'  obduiate  dexnon  sears, 
"  That  villain's  gifts  will  co.^t  you  many  a  groan  ; 
"  In  dolorous  mansion  long  you  must  bemoan 
"  His  tatal  charms,  and  weep  your  stains  away  ; 
"  Till,  soft  and  pure  as  infant  goodness  grown, 
"  You  feel  a  perfect  change  :  then,  who  can  say,  [day  I" 

^    «  What  grace  may  yet  shine  forth  in  ht  aven's  eternal 

I  LXXIL 

'^A^^       This  said,  his  powerful  wand  hv.  wav  d  anew  ■ 

•■ffv        [nstant,  a  glorious  angel-train  descends, 

\ .  The  charities,  to  wit,  of  rosy  hue  ; 

Sweet,  love  their  looks  a  gentle  radiance  lend/ 
And  with  sorapliic  flame  compass^inn  blends 
.At  once,  deliiihtid,  to  their  charge  they  fly: 
When  In  !  a  eoodly  hospiial  ascends: 
In  which  they  bade  each  lenient  aid  be  nigh, 


could  the  sick-bed  smooth  of  l.hat  sad  compau* 


<:% 


^ 


<l 


d8  THE  CASTLE 

Lxxiri. 

Tt  was  a  worthy  edifying  sight, 

And  gives  to  human  kind  peculiar  grace, 

Tn  see  kind  hands  attending  day  and  night, 

VViih  tender  niiiiislry,  from  place  to  place. 

Some  prop  the  Jiead  ;  some,  from  the  jiallid  face 

Wipe  oif  ihe  faint  cold  dews  weak  nature  yheds  ; 

Some  reach  the  healing  draught:  the  whilst,  to  chase 

Tne  fear  supreme,  around  their  soften'd  beds, 

Some  holy  man  bv  prayer  all  opening  heaven  dispreads 
LXXIV. 
Attended  by  a  glad  acclaiming  train, 
Of  those  he  rescued  had  from  gaping  hell, 
Tlien  lurn'd  the  Knight ;  and,  to  his  hall  again 
Soft -pacing,  sought  of  peace  the  mossy  cell : 
Yet  down  iiis  cheeks  the  gems  of  pity  fell, 
To  see  the  helpless  wretches  that  remain'd 
There  left  through  delves  and  deserts  dire  to  yell : 
Amaz'd  their  looks  with  pale  dismay  were  stain'd, 

Vnd  spreading  wide  their  hands,  they  meek  repentance 
feign'd. 

LXXV. 
Rut  ah  !  their  scornef*  day  of  grace  was  past; 
For  (horrible  to  tell)  a  desert  wild 
Before  them  strelch'd.  bare,  comfortless,  and  vast, 
With  gibbets,  bones,  and  carcasses  defil'd. 
There  nor  trim  field,  nor  lively  culture  smil'd; 
Nor  waving  shade  was  seen,  nor  fountain  fair; 
But  sands  abrupt  on  sands  lay  loosely  pil'd,  [care, 

Throuch  which  they  flouiiderin?  toil'd    with  painful 

Whilst  Phcebus  smote  tliem  sore,  and  fir'd  the  cloudless  air. 
LXXVi. 
Then  varyinsi  to  a  joyless  land  of  bo£rs. 
The  sadden'd  country  a  gray  waste  appear'd; 
Where  naught  but  putrid  streams  and  noisome  fogs 
For  ever  hung  on  drizzly  .luster's  beard  : 
Or  else  the  gmund  by  piercing  Cavrtt^  sear'd, 
Was  jasrs'd  with  frost,  or  heap'd  with  elazed  snow: 
Thro'  these  extremes  a  ceaseless  round  they  steer'd, 
By  cruel  fiends  still  huiried  to  and  fro, 

Gatint  Beffirary^  and  Scorn,  with  manv  hell-hounds  moe. 

Lxxvn. 

The  first  was  with  base  dunghill  rags  yclad, 
7  aintiiiS  the  gale,  in  which  they  flutter'd  light; 
Of  morbid  hue  his  features,  sunk,  and  sad; 
His  hollow  pyne  shook  forth  a  sickly  light 


a?- 


■f 


■riiis  lank  jawb^np.  in  piteons  p  %ht, 
His  black  roajh  beard  was  matte  I  ranii  and  vile, 
Direl'ul  to  »ee!    an  lieart-appalbns  sigbt  ! 
Meantime  foul  scurf  and  blotches  bim  defile  ; 
And  dogs,  where'er  he  went,  still  barked  all  tlie  while. 

Lxxvrn. 

The  other  was  a  fell  despiflul  fiend  : 

Hell  holds  none  svorse  in  baleful  bower  below  : 

By  pride,  &\u\  wit.  and  rage,  and  rancour,  keen'd  ; 

Of  man  alike,  if  jiood  or  b.id,  ttie  f  )e  : 

With  nose  upturn 'd,  be  always  made  a  show 

A>  if  he  smelt  some  nguseous  sc^nt;    his  eye 

\Vas  cold,  and  k.^en,  like  btist  fri)m  boreal  snow  ; 

And  taunts  he  casten  foitb  most  bitterly. 

Such  were  the  twain  lliat  dfT drove  this  ungodly  fry. 
LXXTX. 
E'en  sothrongb  Brtntford  town,  a  town  of  mud, • 
.An  herd  fjf  bristly  swine  is  prii-k'd  a'ong  ; 
The  filthy  beasl.s,  that  never  chew  the  cud. 
Still  grunt,  and  sfjueak,  and  sing  tiieir  troublous  901^ 

,    And  oft  they  plunffe  thems-^lves  the  mire  among  : 
But  aye  the  rulhlest  driver  goads  them  on, 
And  aye  of  barking  do2s  the  bit rer  throng 
Makes  them  renew  their  utimelodious  moao  ; 

He  ever  6 ad  they  rest  from  liieir  unrestinj;  foa*. 


^^ 


f 


m 


H 


i*v 


THE  EBD. 


THE  OBSOLETE  WORDS 


er^\ 


USED   i:V  THIS    POEM. 


Archmr&se—Tke  chief,  or\ 
gi-eatest  of  magicians  or 
^nrhavtcrs. 

ApaiJ— ;;n?rf. 

Appal— fl,^r»>Af. 

A\wccy\— between. 

Ay — always. 
B 

Bale — 5orroJc,  trouble,  mis- 
fortune. 

BenCMipt — named. 

B\azon— painting;    display- 
in  e. 

Bieme—colJ,  raw. 
C 

Carol— io  sing  sovffs  of  joy. 

Caucus— tAf  northeast  wind. 

Cenes— certainly. 
D 


Favs— fairies. 

G 
Gear   or    Geer — furniture. 

equipage,  dress. 
GlaWe— sword.  (Fr  ' 
Glee— joy,  pleasure. 

H 
Han— have. 

liisht— named,   called;    and 
sonieiimes  it  is  u^<'d  for  is 
called.    See  Stanza  vii. 
I 
Idless—idicr.'^.ss, 
ln\p—chilfl,     or     off.fprivg; 
from  the  Sa.vor  imj::in,  to 
graft  or  plant. 
K 


Pan- a    word    prefixed    tofKest— /or  fa.'^ 


i>a;nes. 
jyt^CAy-.^kiifnlly 
DfpH'mU'd— painted 
DTows\-ht-Hi\—droicsincss. 


EnV'—esy. 

Ri'tsooi  •■■—Imwediatfiy, 

ten,  aft'i-ward. 
Eke— a/  o. 


and    01 


Lad— /of  I'^d. 
Lea— a   piece    of 

mendov. 
•  ibliard — leopard. 
JJa—to  lie. 

Losel— 0  ,'o-jse  idle  f  Uc.r 
fjou i inp — i-oitin'j^  iaaivg 
Li ! lie— /('«.- e,  lax 


04 

yii 


4?i 


w 


'{ 


M<fll — mingle. 

^!oe — more. 

Moil — tu  lahour 

Mote— min-ht. 

Muchel   or  ISIochel — inuch, 

•rreat. 

N 
^aihXess,— nevertheless. 
Ne — nor. 

Needments — necessaries. 
Noursling— a  child    that  is 

vursrd. 
Noyance — harm. 

P 
Prankt — coloured,    adorned 

gayly. 
Peidie  ^Fr.  par  Dieu)  an  old 

oath- 
Prick'd    thro'   the    forest— 

rode  thro'  the  forest. 
S 
Sf-ar — dry,  burnt  vp. 
Sheen,  bright,  shining. 
S'.ckf-^-sure.  svrcly. 
Sool — swict,  or  siccclly. 
S;)Oth— <r((C,  or  truth. 

iiid — misfortuve,  pang 


^Vi^Wvy— sultry,  consuming  Ymolleu— melted 


vAih  heat. 
Swiiik — to  labour. 


*  The  letter  Y'l^  fieqiienlly  placed  in  the  beL'inninirof 
a  v,-o;d,  by  Spnner,  to  lenirlhea  it  a  syllable,  and  en  at 
the  end  of  a  word,  for  tlie  same  reason,  as  icilhouteTi, 
casten,  <S,-c 


Siaackt— savoured. 

T 
Thran— slave. 
'Vransmew'd— transform' a. 

V 
\M—vils. 

U 
Unkempt — (Lat.  incowptua) 

unadorned. 
W 
Ween— (0  think,   be  of  opt- 

vion. 
Wect—to  know  ;  to  wect,  ti 

tcit. 
Whilom — erewhile,   former- 

h'- 
Wi2ht — man. 
Wis,  for    Wist— fo    know. 

think,  under.itand. 
Wonne — (a  >»ouny  dwelling. 
Wroke — wrcnkt 
Y* 
Yborn— fcor«. 
Yblent,   or  blent — blended^ 

min  fried 
Yclad— cZ/trf. 
Ycleped— caZ/.?rf,  named. 
Yfcn — tnsether. 


Yode — {preter  tense  o/yede) 
t. 


POETICAL    WORKS 


\1 


THOMAS  GRAY. 


fi 


0m 


•ift 


N  E  W     Y  0  R  K 


Mm         L  E  A  V  I  T  T    &    ALLEN. 

379    BROADWAY. 

1856. 


f 

So 


(11; 


} 


1 


CONTENTS. 


On  the  Spring  .... 

On  the  Death  of  a  Favourite  Cat 

On  a  Distant  Prospect  of  Eton  College 

To  Adversity 

The  Progress  r   Poffy     . 

The  Bard  .... 

For  Music         ... 

The  Fatal  Sisur.-     . 

Tlie  Descent  of  Odin 

The  Triumphs  of  Owen 

The  Death  of  Hoel 


Epitaph  on  Mrs.  Clarke 
Epitaph  on  Sir  William  Williams 
Elegy,  written  in  a  Country  Churchyard 
Sonnet  on  the  Death  of  Mr.  West 
A  Long  Story  ... 


POSTHUMOUS  POEMS  AND  FRAGMENTS 

Ode  on  the  Pleasure  aris^ing  from  Vicissitude 
Translation  of  a  Passage  from  Staitius 
iii 


%hmfi 


"^^Si^ 


\^'r\ 


^/^ 


^ 


2r' 


'^^=^r^ 


^ 


i 


f ' 
si 

IK 


hr  CONTENTS. 

BAGB 

Fragment  of  a  Tragedy,  on  the  subject  of  the 

Death  of  Agrippina 80 

Lines  addressed  to  Mr.  West,  from  Genoa          .  92 

Hymn  to  Ignorance        .                ....  95 

The  Alliance  of  Education  and  Government      .  98 

Stanzas  to  Mr.  Bentley 100 

Sketch  of  his  own  character         .        .        ,  101 

Song 102 

Impromptu,  suggested  by  a  "View  of  the  Seat  and 

Ruins  of  a  deceased  Nobleman        .        .  10.3 

Amatory  Lhies 104 

Tophet.    An  Epigram 105 

POEMATA. 

Hymeneal  on  the  Marriage  of  the  Prince  of 

Wales  .  106 

Sapphic  Ode.    To  Mr.  West         .        .        .        .109 

Alcaic  Fragment Ill 

Carmen  ad  C.  Favonium  Zephyrinurn         .        .     112 
Fragment  of  a  Latin  Poem  on  the  Gaurus  •     113 

A  Farewell  to  Florence 116 

Imitation  of  an  Italian  Sonnet      ....     IIG 

Alcaic  Ode 117 

Luna  Ilabitabilis      .        .        .  .        .        .118 

Part  of  an  Heroic  Epistle  from  Sophonisba  to 

Masinissa  . 122 

De  Principiis  Cogitandi 124 

Liber  Uuartus 132 

Greek  Epigram 133 


\1 


■-pH-n 


^ 


4'f 


V/ji 


'1 


\u 


f> 


ON  THE  SPRING. 

Lo '  where  the  rosy-bosom'd  Hours, 

Fair  Venus'  train,  appear, 
Disclose  the  long  expecting  flowers, 

And  wake  the  purple  year  ! 
The  Attic  warbler  pours  her  throat, 
Responsive  to  the  cuckoo's  note, 

The  untaught  harmony  of  Spring : 
While,  whispering  pleasure  as  they  fly. 
Cool  Zephyrs  through  the  clear  blue  sky 

Their  gather' d  fragrance  fling. 

Where'er  the  oak's  thick  branches  stretch 

A  broader  browner  shade, 
Where'er  the  rude  and  moss-grown  beeck 

O'ercanopies  the  glade, 
Beside  some  water's  rushy  brink 
With  me  the  muse  shall  sit,  and  think 

(At  ease  reclined  in  rustic  state) 
How  vain  the  ardour  of  the  crowd. 
How  low,  how  Uttle  are  the  proud, 

How  indigent  the  great ! 


34 


ifi 


1 


'1 


4tf  ' 


\iW^i'' 


a 


Still  i3  the  toiling  nand  of  Care ; 

The  panting  herds  repose  : 
Yet  hark,  how  through  the  peopled  air 

The  busy  murmur  glows  ! 
The  insect-youth  are  on  the  wing, 
Eager  to  taste  the  honied  spring, 

And  float  amid  the  liquid  noon : 
Some  lightly  o'er  the  current  skim, 
Some  show  their  gaily  gilded  trim 

Quick-glancing  to  the  sun. 

To  Contemplation's  sober  eye 

Such  is  the  race  of  Man  : 
And  they  that  creep,  and  they  that  fly, 

Shall  end  where  they  began. 
Alike  the  Busy  and  the  Gay 
But  flutter  through  life's  little  day. 

In  Fortune's  varying  colours  dress'd: 
Brush'd  by  the  hand  of  rough  Mischaice, 
Or  chill' d  by  Age,  their  airy  dance 

They  leave,  in  dust  to  rest. 

MethJnks  I  hear,  in  accents  low, 

The  sportive  kind  reply  : 
Poor  morahst !  and  what  art  thou  ? 

A  sohtary  fly ! 
Thy  joys  no  glittering  female  meets, 
No  hive  hast  thou  of  hoarded  sweets, 

No  painted  plumage  to  display  : 
On  hasty  wings  thy  youth  is  flown ; 
Thy  sun  is  set,  thy  spring  is  gone — 

We  froKc  while  'tis  May. 


3 


ksmm 


r 


ON   THE 

DEATH  OF  A  FAVOURITE  CAT, 

DROWNED  IN  A   TUB  OF  GOLD  FISHES. 

'TwAS  on  a  lofty  vase's  side, 
Where  China's  gayest  art  had  dyed 

The  azure  flowers,  that  blow; 
Demurest  of  the  tabby  kind, 
The  pensive  Sehma,  recUned, 

Gazed  on  the  lake  below. 

Her  conscious  tail  her  joy  declared  ; 
The  fair  round  face,  tlie  snowy  beard, 

The  velvet  of  her  paws. 
Her  coat,  that  whh  the  tortoise  vies, 
Her  ears  of  jet,  and  emerald  eyes, 

She  saw  ;  and  purr'd  applause. 

Still  had  she  gazed ;  but  'midst  the  tide 
Two  angel  forms  were  seen  to  glide, 

The  Genii  of  the  stream  : 
Their  scaly  armour's  Tyrian  hue 
Through  richest  purple  to  the  view 

Betray'd  a  golden  gleam. 


1-^ 

ill 


4W 


u 


V 


The  hapless  nymph  with  wonder  st  w  ; 
A  whisker  first,  and  then  a  claw, 

With  many  an  ardent  wish, 
She  stretch' d,  in  vain,  to  reach  the  prize. 
What  female  heart  can  gold  despise  ? 
.  What  Cat's  averse  to  fish  ? 

Presumptuous  maid  !  whh  looks  intent 
Again  she  stretch'd,  again  she  bent, 

Nor  knew  the  gulf  between. 
(Mahgnant  Fate  sat  by,  and  smiled) 
ThT  slipp'ry  verge  her  feet  beguiled. 

She  tumbled  headlong  in. 

Eight  times  emerging  from  the  flood, 
She  mew'd  to  every  watery  God, 

Some  speedy  aid  to  send. 
No  Dolphin  came,  no  Nereid  stirr'd  : 
Nor  cruel  Tom,  nor  Susan,  heard. 

A  favourite  has  no  friend  ! 

From  hence,  ye  beauties,  undeceived, 
Know,  one  filse  step  is  ne'er  retrieved, 

And  be  with  caution  bold. 
Not  all  that  tempts  your  wandering  eyes 
And  heedless  hearts  is  lawful  prize, 

Nor  all,  that  glisters,  gold. 


C^i 


4 

i 


ON  A  DISTANT 

I'ROSPECT  OF  ETON  COLLEGE. 


f) 


MENANDER. 

Yb  distant  spires,  ye  antique  towers, 

That  crown  the  watery  glade, 
Where  grateful  Science  still  adores 

Her  Henry's  *  holy  shade  ; 
And  ye,  that  from  the  stately  brow 
Of  Windsor's  heights  the'  expanse  below 

Of  grove,  of  lawn,  of  mead  survey, 
Whose  turf,  whose  shade,  whose  flowers  among 
Wanders  the  hoary  Thames  along 

His  silver- winding  way: 

Ah,  happy  hills  !  ah,  pleasing  shade  ! 

Ah,  fields  beloved  in  vain  ! 
Where  onee  my  careless  cliildhood  stray' d 

A  stranger  yet  to  pain ! 
I  feel  the  gales  that  frorh  ye  blow 
A  momentary  bliss  bestow, 


4fl, 


I^%^V^^/ 


As  waving  fresh  their  gladsome  w  mg 
My  weary  soul  they  seem  to  sooth, 
And,  redolent  of  joy  and  youth, 

To  breathe  a  second  Spring. 

Say,  father  Thames,  for  thou  hast  seen 

Full  many  a  sprightly  race 
Disporting  on  thy  margent  green, 

The  paths  of  pleasure  trace  ; 
Who  foremost  now  deUght  to  cleave, 
\Tith  pliant  arm,  thy  glassy  wave  ? 

The  captive  hnnet  which  enthral  ? 
What  idle,  progeny  succeed 
To  chase  the  rolhng  circle's  speed. 

Or  urge  the  flying  ball  ? 

While  some  on  earnest  business  bent, 

Their  murmuring  labours  ply 
'Gainst  graver  hours  that  bring  constranf 

To  sweeten  liberty : 
Some  bold  adventurers  disdain 
The  hmits  of  their  httle  reign, 

And  unknown  regions  dare  descry . 
Still  as  they  run  they  look  behind, 
They  hear  a  voice  in  every  wind, 

And  snatch  a  fearful  joy. 

Gay  hope  is  theirs  by  fancy  fed, 
Less  pleasing  when  possess' d  , 

The  tear  forgot  as  soon  as  shed, 
T'ie  sunshine  of  the  breast. 


'Hh 


%. 


Vii4(^ 


tl 


4^ 


^M 


O 


& 


:L 


Theirs  buxom  health,  of  rosy  hue, 
Wild  wit,  invention  ever  new, 

And  lively  cheer,  of  vigour  born, 
The  thoughtless  day,  the  easy  night, 
The  spirits  pure,  the  slumbers  light, 

That  fly  the  approach  of  morn. 

Alas !  regardless  of  their  doom, 

The  Uttle  victims  play  ; 
No  sense  have  they  of  ills  to  come, 

Nor  care  beyond  to-day  : 
Yet  see,  how  all  around  'em  wait 
The  ministers  of  human  fate. 

And  black  Misfortune's  baleful  train  ! 
Ah,  show  them  where  in  ambush  stand, 
To  seize  their  prey,  the  murderous  band ! 

Ah,  tell  them  they  are  men  ! 

1  hese  snail  the  fury  Passions  tear, 

The  vultures  of  the  mind. 
Disdainful  Anger,  pallid  Fear, 

And  Shame  that  skulks  behind  ; 
Or  pining  Love  shall  waste  their  youth, 
Or  Jealousy  with  rankUng  tooth. 

That  inly  gnaws  the  secret  heart ; 
And  Envy  wan,  and  faded  Care, 
Grim-visaged  comfortless  Despair, 

And  Sorrow's  piercing  dart. 


^>w^      Ambition  this  shall  tempt  to  nse, 
||  ^  i     Then  whirl  the  wretch  from  high, 


^B3 


Sii 


=^^/^%^ 


Si 


M 


I 


■■? 


8-I* 


is!. 

r 


If# 


1^^ 


To  bitter  Scorn  a  sacrifice, 

And  grinning  Infamy. 
The  stings  of  Falsehood  those  shall  try 
And  hard  Unkindness'  alter'd  eye, 

That  mocks  the  tear  it  forced  to  flow  ; 
And  keen  Remorse,  with  blood  defiled, 
And  moody  Madness  laughing  wild 

Amid  severest  woe. 

Lo  !  in  the  vale  of  years  beneath, 

A  grisly  troop  are  seen. 
The  painful  family  of  Death, 

More  hideous  than  their  queen  : 
This  racks  the  joints,  this  fires  the  veina. 
That  every  labouring  sinew  strains. 

Those  m  the  deeper  vitals  rage  : 
Lo!  Poverty,  to  fill  the  band. 
That  numbs  the  soul  with  icy  hand, 

And  slow-consuming  Age. 

To  each  his  sufferings:  all  are  men, 

Condemn' d  alike  to  groan; 
The  tender  for  another's  pain, 

Th'  unfeeling  for  his  own. 
Yet,  ah  !  why  should  they  know  their  fate, 
Since  sorrow  never  comes  too  late. 

And  happiness  tx)0  swiftly  flies  ? 
Thought  wouia  oestroy  their  paradise. 
No  more  ; — where  ignorance  is  bUss, 

'Tis  folly  to  be  wise. 


TO  ADVERSITY 


•Zrva.- 


aavta,  rbv  ridSst  jxaQav 
(divta  xv^i^s  tx(t,v. 

jESCHYLai 

Daughter  of  Jove,  relentless  power, 
Thou  tamer  of  the  human  breast, 

Whose  iron  scourge  and  torturing  hour 
The  bad  affright,  afflict  the  best ! 

Bound  in  thy  adamantine  chain, 

The  proud  are  taught  to  taste  of  pain, 
And  purple  tyrants  vainly  groan 

Whh  pangs  tinfelt  before,  unpitied  and  atom 

When  first  thy  sire  to  send  on  earth 
Virtue,  his  darUng  child,  design' d. 

To  thee  he  gave  the  heavenly  birth. 
And  bade  to  form  her  infant  mind. 

Stern  rugged  nurse  !  thy  rigid  lore 
With  patience  many  a  year  she  bore  : 
What  sorrow  was,  thou  bad'st  her  know, 

And  from  her  own  she  learn' d  to  melt  at  others 
»-  woe. 


p 


uawii 


m,^^ 


X, 


1 


4, 


¥\ 


m 


Scared  at  thy  frown  terrilic  fly, 

Self-pleasing  Folly's  idle  brood, 
Wild  Laughter,  Noise,  and  thoughtless  Joy, 

^.  ->(]  leave  us  leisure  to  he  good. 

Light  they  disperse,  and  with  them  go 

The  summer  friend,  the  flattering  foe  ; 

By  vain  Prosperhy  received. 
To  her  they  vow  their  truth,  and  are  again  b6 
lieved. 

Wisdom  in  sahle  garb  array*  d 

Immersed  in  rapturous  thought  profound, 
And  7\Ielancholy,  silent  maid, 

With  leaden  eye  that  loves  the  ground. 
Still  on  thy  solemn  steps  atteiid : 
Warin  Charity,  the  general  friend. 
With  Justice,  to  herself  severe. 
And  Pity,  dropping  soft  the  sadly  pleasing  tear 

Oh  !  gently  on  thy  suppliant's  head. 
Dread  goddess,  lay  thy  chastening  hau'-'  ! 

Not  m  thy  Gorgon  terrors  clad,       • 
Not  circled  with  the  vengeful  band 

(As  by  the  impious  thou  art  seen) ; 
With  thundering  voice,  and  threatening  mien 
With  screaming  Horror's  fijneral  cry. 

Despair,  and  fell  Disease,  and  ghastly  Poverty  ■ 

Thy  form  benign,  oh  goddess,  wear, 

Thy  milder  influence  impart, 
Thy  philosophic  train  be  tliare 

To  soften,  not  to  v/ouiul  mv  heart. 


/r^ 


Tf- 


4( 


4 


The  gerxirous  spark  extinct  revive, 
Teach  me  to  love,  and  to  forgive, 
Exact  my  own  defects  to  scan, 
^Vhat  others  are  to  feel,  and  know  mj-self  a 
Man. 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  POESY. 

A    PINDARIC    ODE. 

^uvavta  avvftoiaiv  55 
As  to  Tiav  e^fir^i'iuv 
Xart^ffc. 


m 


I.  1 

Awake,  ^ohan  Lyre,  awake, 
And  give  to  rapture  all  thy  trembling  strings. 
From  Helicon's  harmonious  springs 

A  thousand  rills  their  mazy  progress  take: 
The  laughing  flowers,  that  round  them  blow, 
Drink  hfe  and  fragrance  as  they  flow. 

Ver.  1.     Aicake,  JEolian  lyre,  a7cuke\  "Awake,  my 
glory:   awake,  lute  and  harp."     David's  Psalms. 
Variation. — "Awake,  my  lyre  :  my  glory,  wake.  " 
Pindar  styles  his  own  poetry,  with  its  musical  ac* 
comi>aniinents,   AufKr^ii  unXTtr,  AcdXtSfS  %o^8al 


u   ^ 


mi 


Now  the  rich  stream  of  music  winds  along, 
Deep,  majestic,  smooth,  and  strong, 
Through  verdant  vales,  and  Ceres'  golden  reign 
Now  rolhng  down  the  steep  amain, 
Headlong,  impetuous,  see  it  pour  : 
The  rocks  and  nodding  groves  rebellow  to  the 
roar. 


I.  2 


Oh!  Sovereign  of  the  willing  soul, 
Parent  of  sweet  and  solemn-breathing  airs, 
Enchanting  shell !  the  sullen  Cares 

And  frantic  Passions  hear  thy  soft  control. 
On  Thracia's  hills  the  Lord  of  War 
Has  curb'd  the  fury  of  his  car, 
And  dropp'd  his  thirsty  lance  at  thy  command. 

Aioh'Scov    Tivoai    av%il>v,    '.Eolian  song,  .Eolian 
strings,  the  breath  of  the  jEolian  flute.' 

The  subject  and  simile,  as  usual  with  Pindar,  are 
united.  The  various  sources  of  poetrj',  which  give 
life  and  lustre  to  all  it  touches,  are  here  described; 
its  quiet  majestic  progress  enriching  every  subject 
(otherwise  dry  and  barren)  with  a  pomp  of  diction 
and  luxuriant  harmony  of  numbers ;  and  its  more 
rapid  and  irresistible  course,  when  swoln  and  hur- 
ried away  by  the  conflict  of  tumultuous  passions. 

Ver.  13.  Oh!  Sovereign  of  the  Killing-  sout] 
Power  of  harmony  to  calm  the  turbulent  sallies  of 
the  soul.  The  thoughts  are  borrowed  from  the  first 
Pythian  of  Pindar. 


# 


Perching  on  the  sceptred  hand 

Of  Jove,  thy  magic  lulls  the  feather'd  king 

With  ruffled  plumes  and  flagging  wing : 

Quench' d  in  dark  clouds  of  slumber  lie 

The  terror  of  his  beak,  and  lightnings  of  his  eye. 

I.  3. 
Thee  the  voice,  the  dance,  obey, 
Temper'd  to  thy  warbled  lay. 
O'er  Idalia's  velvet  green 
The  rosy-crowned  Loves  are  seen 
On  Cytherea's  day 

With  antic  Sport,  and  blue-eyed  Pleasures, 
Frisking  light  in  froHc  measures  ; 
Now  pursuing,  now  retreating, 

Now  in  circling  troops  they  meet: 
To  brisk  notes  in  cadence  beating. 

Glance  their  many  twinkling  feet. 
Slow  melting  sti'ains  their  Queen's  approach 
declare : 

Where'er  she  turns,  the  Graces  homage  pay. 
With  arms  subUme,  that  float  upon  the  air, 

In  gliding  state  she  wins  her  easy  way : 
O'er  her  warm  cheek,  and  rising  bosom,  movo 
The  bloom  of  yotmg  Desire  and  purple  light  of 
Love. 

Ver.  20.  Perching'  on  the  sceptred  hand]  This  is  a 
wealt  imitation  of  some  beautiful  lines  in  the  same 
ode. 

Ver.  25.  TTiee  the  voice,  the  dance,  obey]  Power  of 
harmony  to  produce  all  the  graces  of  motion  in  the 
body. 


mm.  '^, 


M 


If 


^1 


Ai". 


I 


II.  1. 
's  feeble  race  what  ills  await . 
Labovir,  and  Penury,  the  racks  of  Paii., 
Disease  and  Sorrow's  weeping  train, 

And  Death,  sad  refuge  from  the  stormsof  Fate 
The  fond  complaint,  my  song,  disprove, 
And  justify  the  laws  of  Jove. 
Say,  has  he  given  in  vain  the  heavenly  muse  ? 
Night  and  all  her  sickly  dews. 
Her  spectres  wan,  and  l)irds  of  boding  cry, 
He  gives  to  range  the  dreary  sky  ; 
Till  down  the  eastern  chfis  afar 
Hyperion's  march  they  spy,  and  glittering  shafu 
of  war. 

n.  2. 
In  climes  beyond  the  solar  road, 
Where  shaggy  forms  o'er  ice -built  mountains 

roam, 
The  muse  has  broke  the  twihght  gloom 

To  ch^er  the  shivering  native's  dull  abode. 
And  oft,  beneath  the  odorous  shade 
OfChili's  boundless  forests  laid. 
She  deigns  to  hear  the  savage  youth  repeat, 
In  loose  numbers  wildly  sweet, 


Ver.  42.  Man's  fetMe  race  what  ills  ainatt\  T% 
compensate  the  real  and  imaginary  ills  of  life,  the 
muse  was  given  to  mankind  by  the  same  Providence 
that  sends  the  day,  by  its  cheerful  presence,  to  dispe 
the  gloom  and  terrors  of  the  night. 

Ver.  54.    In  climes  beyond  the  solar  road']     Eiten* 


?? 


P' 


I- 


Sp 


Y 


n 


f 


,  I./  -J 

Tf 


\ 


^1? 


m 

f 


SSk 


V 


•r-' 


mife 


Their  fea'her-cinctured  chiefs  and  dusky  loves. 
Her  track,  where'er  the  goddess  roves, 
Glory  pursue,  and  generous  shame. 
The'  unconquerable  Mind,  and  Freedom's  holy 
flame. 


Woods,  that  wave  o'er  Delphi's  steep. 
Isles,  that  crown,  the  jEgean  deep, 

Fields  that  cool  IHssus  laves, 

Or  where  Maeander's  amber  waves 
In  lingering  labyrinths  creep. 

How  do  your  tuneful  echoes  languish, 

Mute,  but  to  the  voice  of  anguish! 
Where  each  old  poetic  mountain 

Inspiration  breathed  around ; 
Every  shade  and  hallow'd  fountain 

Murmur' d  deep  a  solemn  sound  : 


give  influence  of  poetic  genius  over  the  remotest  and 
most  uncivilised  nations  :  its  connexion  with  Liberty, 
and  the  virtues  that  natvirally  attend  on  it.  [See  the 
Erse,  Norwegia7i,  and  Welsh  fragments,  the  Lapland 
and  American  songs,  <Stc.] 

"Extra  anni  solisque  vias" — virgil. 

"Tutta  lontana  dal  camin  del  sole,    petraech. 

Ver.   66.       IVoods-,  thai  wave    o^tr   DdpJivs  step"] 
Progress  of  Poetry  from  Greece  to  Italy,  and  from 
Italy  to  England.     Chaucer  was  not  unacquainK 
jvitli  the  writings  of  Dante  or  of  Petrarch.     The 


^1 


^1 

w 

ml 


:m3 


16 


OIES. 


Till  the  sad  Nine,  in  Greece's  evil  hour, 

Left  their  Parnassus  for  the  Latian  plains. 
Alike  they  scorn  the  pomp  of  tyrant  Power, 

And  coward  Vice,  that  revels  in  her  chains. 
When  Latium  had  her  lofty  spirit  lost, 
They  sought,  oh  Albion  !  next  thy  sea-encircled 
coast. 

in.  1. 

Far  from  the  sun  and  summer  gale, 
In  thy  green  lap  was  Nature's  Darling  laid, 
What  time,  where  lucid  Avos  stray'd. 

To  him  the  mighty  mother  dia  unveil 
Her  awful  face  :  the  dauntless  child 
Stretch' d  forth  his  little  arms  and  smiled. 
"This  pencil  take  (she  said) , whose  colours  clear 
Richly  paint  the  vernal  year : 
Thine  be  these  golden  keys,  immortal  Boy  I 
This  can  unlock  the  gates  of  joy  ; 
Of  horror  that  and  thrilling  fears. 
Or  ope  the  sacred  source  of  sympathetic  tears." 

Earl  of  Surrey  and  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt  had  travelled 
in  Italy,  and  formed  their  taste  there.  Spenser  imi- 
tated the  Italian  writers;  Milton  Improved  on  them; 
but  this  school  expired  soon  after  the- Restoration, 
and  a  new  one  arose  on  the  French  model,  which 
has  subsisted  ever  since. 

a>Gray  has  been  long  dead ;  the  Poets  of  the  present 
day  rather  imitate  the  Italian  and  early  English  Poets 
than  the  French. 

Ver.  8i.  In  thy  green  lap  was  J^ature's  Darling 
laii]  "Nature's  darling"    Shaicspeare. 


1^ 


f1 


//?2' 


V 


1. 


III.  2. 

Nor  second  He,  that  rode  sublime 
Upon  the  seraph  wings  of  Ecstasy, 
The  secrets  of  the  abyss  to  spy, 

He  pass'd  the  flaming  bounds  of  place  and 
time : 
The  living  throne,  the  sapphire  blaze. 
Where  angels  tremble  while  they  gaze, 
He  saw;  but,  blasted  with  excess  of  light, 
Closed  his- eyes  in  endless  night. 
Behold,  where  Dryden's  less  presumptuous  car 
Wide  o'er  the  fields  of  glory  bear 
Two  coursers  of  ethereal  race. 
With  necks  in  thunder  clothed,  and  long-re- 
sounding pace. 


Ver.  95.     JVor  second  He,  that  rode  sublime]  MiLTON. 

Ver.  99.  The  livina-  throne,  the  sapphire  blaze"] 
"For  the  spirit  of  the  liviii!?  creature  was  in  the 
wheels.  And  above  the  tirniament,  that  was  over 
their  heads,  was  the  likeness  of  a  throne,  as  the 
appearance  of  aisapphire  stone.  This  was  the  appear- 
ance of  the  glory  of  the  Lord."    Ezek.  i.  20,  26,  28." 

Ver.  106.  With  necks  in  thunder  clothed]  "Hast 
thou  clothed  his  neck  with  thunder"?"  JoB.--Thi3 
verse  and  the  foregoing  are  meant  to  express  the 
stately  march  and  sounding  energy  of  Dryden'a 
rhymes. 

C 


m 


\ii 


J 

w 


I 


^  1 


I 


Hark,  ;iis  hands  the  lyre  explore  I 
Bright-eyed  Fancy,  hovering  o'er. 
Scatters  from  her  pictured  urn 
Thoughts  that  breathe,  and  words  thai  burn. 
But  ah  !  'tis  heard  no  more 

Oh  !  lyre  divine,  what  daring  spirit 

Wakes  thee  now  ?    Though  he  inherit 
Nor  the  pride,  nor  ample  pinion, 

That  the  Theban  eagle  bear, 

Sailing  with  supreme  dominion 

Through  the  azure  deep  of  air  : 
Yet  oft  before  his  infant  eyes  would  run 

Such  forms  as  glitter  in  the  Muse's  ray, 

Ver.  III.  But  ah!  'tis  heard  nohnore]  We  have 
had  in  our  lansiiaiie  no  other  odes  of  the  sublime 
kind  than  that  of  Dryden  on  St.  Cecilia's  Day;  for 
Cowley,  who  had  merit,  yet  wanted  judgment,  style, 
and  harmony,  for  such  a  task.  That  of  Pope  is  not 
worthy  of  so  trreat  a  man.  Mr.  Mason,  indeed,  of  late 
days,  has  touched  the  true  chords,  and  with  a  mas- 
terly hand,  in  some  of  his  chorusQt*  above  all  in  the 
last  of  Caractacus  :  '^  ' 

"Hark:  heard  ye  not  yon  footstep  dread?  "  &:c. 

Ver.  115.  That  the  Theban  ea^le  bear]  Aio?  jT^oj 
o^VL^ci  ^ft,ov  Olymp.  III.  50.  Pindar  compares  him- 
self to  that  bird,  and  his  enemies  to  ravens  that  croak 
and  clamour  in  vain  below,  while  it  pursues  its  flight, 
regardless  of  their  noise. 


M. 


® 


4 


in 
m 


With  orient  hues  anborrow'd  of  the  sun : 

Yet  shall  he  mount,  and  keep  his  distant  way 
Beyond  the  limits  of  a  vulgar  fate. 
Beneath  the  Good  how  far — but  far  above  the 
Great. 


THE  BARD. 


A    PIN'DAKIC    ODE. 

This  Ode  is  founded  on  a  trtidition  current  in  Wales, 
that  Edward  the  First,  when  he  completed  the  con- 
quest of  that  country,  ordered  all  the  Bards  that 
fell  into  his  hands  to  be  put  to  death. 

I.   1. 
*'  RuiN"  seize  thee,  ruthless  king ! 

Confusion  on  thy  banners  wait ; 
Though  fann'd  by  Conquest's  crimson  wmg, 

They  mock  the  air  with  idle  state. 

Helm,  nor  hauberk's  twisted  mail, 
Nor  e'en  thy  virtues,  Tyrant,  shall  avail 
To  save  thy  secret  soul  from  nightly  fears, 
From  Cambria's  curse,  from  Cambria's  tears !" 

Ver.   5.     Ilelm^  nor  hauberk^s  twisted  maW]      The 
hauberk,  was  a  te\ture  of  steel  ringlets,  or  rings  in-^ 
terwoven,  forming  a  coat  of  mail  that  sat  close  to  the 
9ody,  and  adapted  itself  to  every  motion. 


Pi 


4'i 


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Hi* 


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4.^ 


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ODES. 

Such  were  the  sounds  that  o'er  the  crested  pride 

Of  the  first  Edward  scattered  wild  dismay, 
As  down  the  steep  of  Snowdon's  shaggy  side 

He  wound  with    toilsome    march    his  long 
array. 
Stout  Glo'ster  stood  aghast  in  speechless  trance  : 

"To  arms!"  cried  Mortimer,  and  couch'd 
his  quivering  lance. 
I.  2. 

On  a  rock,  whose  haughty  brow 
Frowns  o'er  old  Conway's  foaming  flood, 

Robed  in  the  sable  garb  of  woe, 
With  haggard  eyes  the  poet  stood  ; 
(Loose  his  beard  and  hoary  hair 
Stream'd  like  a  meteor,  to  the  troubled  air) 

Ver.  11.    of  Snov:don''s  shaggy  side]     Snowdon 

was  a  name  given  by  the  Saxons  to  that  mountain- 
ous tract :  it  included  all  the  highlands  of  Caernar- 
vonshire and  Merionethshire,  as  far  east  as  the  river 
Conway. 

Ver.  13.  Stout  Glossier]  Gilbert  de  Clare,  sur- 
named  the  Red,  Earl  of  Gloucester  and  Hertford; 
married  at  Westminster,  May  2,  1290,  to  Joan  de 
Acres  or  Aeon  (so  called  from  having  been  born  at 
Aeon  in  the  Holv  Land),  second  daughter  of  King 
Edward.— He  died  1295. 

Ver.  14.  "  To  arms!"  cHed  Mortimer']  Edmond  de 
Mortimer,  Lord  of  Wigmore. 

They  both  were  Lord  Marchers,  whose  lands  lay 
on  the  borders  of  Wales,  and  probably  accompanied 
the  king  in  this  expedition. 

Ver.   19.      Loose  his  beard  and  hoary  hair']     Th» 


m 


mi 


?w 


'i 


y  1 


«rf 


And  with  a  master's  hand,  and  prophet's  fire, 

Struck  the  deep  sorrows  of  his  lyre. 

"Hark,  how  each  giant-oak,  and  desert-cave, 

Sighs  to  the  torrent's  awful  voice  beneath  ! 
O'er  thee,  oh  King  I  their  hundred  arms  they 
wave, 

Revenge  on  thee  in  hoarser  murmurs  breathe ; 
Vocal  no  more,  since  ^ambria's  fatal  day. 
To  high-born  Hoel's  harp,  or  soft  Llewellyn's 
lay. 

I.  3. 

"  Cold  is  Cadwallo's  tongue, 

That  hush'd  the  stormy  main  : 
Brave  Urien  sleeps  upon  his  craggy  bed  : 

Mountains,  ye  mourn  in  vain 

Modrid,  whose  magic  song 
Made  huge  Plinlimmon  bow  his  cloud-topp'd 
head. 

On  dreary  Arvon's  shore  they  lie. 
Smear' d  with  gore,  and  ghastly  pale  : 
Far,  far  aloof  th'  affrighted  ravens  sail; 

The  famish'd  eagle  screams,  and  passes  by. 


image  was  taken  from  a  well-known  picture  by  Ra- 
phael, representing  the  Supreme  Being  in  the  vision 
of  Ezekiel. 

Ver.  35.  On  dreary  Mrvon's  shore  they  Zfe]  The 
shores  of  Caernarvonshire,  opposite  to  the  Isle  ol 
Anglesey 

Ver.  38.  TTie  famish'd  eagle  screams,  and  passes  by'\ 
Caraden  and  others  observe,  that  eagles  used  annu- 


^"m 


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I 


n 


^ 


ft 


if 


ff 


^.f. 

m 


M-: 


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4,, 


Dear  lost  companions  of  my  tuneful  art. 

Dear  as  the  light  that  visits  these  sad  eyes, 
Dear  as  the  ruddy  drops  that  warm  my  heart, 

Ye  died  amidst  your  dying  country's  cries- 
No  more  I  weep.     They  do  not  sleep. 

On  yonder  cliffs,  a  grisly  band, 
I  see  them  sit.  they  linger  yet, 

Avengers  of  their  native  land  : 
With  me  in  dreadful  harmony  they  join. 
And  weave  with  bloody  hands  the  tissue  of  thy 
line. 

II.  1. 
"  Weave  the  warp,  and  weave  the  woof. 
The  winding-sheet  of  Edward's  race. 

Give  ample  room,  and  verge  enough 
The  characters  of  hell  to  trace. 
Mark  the  year,  and  mark  the  night. 
When  Severn  shall  re-echo  with  affright 


ally  to  build  their  aerie  among  .he  rocks  of  Snowdon, 
which  from  thence  (as  some  think)  were  named  by 
the  Welsh  Crai?aneryri,  or  the  crags  of  the  eagles. 
At  this  day  the  highest  point  of  Snowdon  is  called  the 
Eagle's  Nest.  That  bird  is  certainly  no  stranger  to 
this  island,  as  the  «cots,  and  the  people  of  Cumber- 
land, Westmoreland,  <fcc.  can  testify:  it  even  has 
built  its  nest  in  the  Peak  of  Derbyshire.  (See  Wil- 
loughby's  Ornithology,  published  by  Ray.) 

Ver.  48.  jind  weave  with  bloodii  haiids  the  tissue  of 
thy  line]  See  the  Norwegian  Ode  (the  Fatal  SLstera) 
that  follows. 


C 


J 


f 


The  shrieks  of  (^ath,  through  Berkley's  roof" 

that  ring, 
Shrieks  of  an  agonizing  king  ! 

She- wolf  of  France,  with  unrelenting  fang; 
That  tear'st  the  bowels  of  thy  mangled  mate, 
From  thee  be  born,  who  o'er  thy  country 

hangs 
The  scourge  )f  Heaven.     What  terrors  round 

him  wait  1 
Amazement  in  his  van,  with  Flight  combined. 
And  Sorrow's  faded  form,  and  Sohtude  behind. 


"  Mighty  victor,  mighty  lord  I 
Low  on  his  funeral  couch  he  I'es  ! 

No  pitying  heart,  no  eye  afford 
A  tear  to  grace  his  obsequies. 


Ver.  55.  The  shrieks  of  deaths  thi'ovn-h  Berkley" s 
roof  that  rina''\  Edward  the  Second,  cruelly  butchered 
in  Berkley  Castle. 

Ver.  57.  She-iroJf  of  France]  Isabel  of.France,  Ed- 
ward the  Second's  adulterous  queen. 

Ver.  fiO.  The  scourge  of //euren—Triuinplis  of  Ed- 
ward the  Third  in  France. 

Ver.  61.  Low  on  his  funeral  couch  he  lies — Death 
of  that  kins,  abandoned  by  his  children,  and  even 
robbed  in  his  last  tuonients  by  his  courtiers  and  his 
mistress. 


CvC^ 


'^^^iftr 


Is  the  sable  warrior  fled  ?  - 
Thy  son  is  gone.     He  rests  among  the  dead. 
The  swarm,  that  in  thy  noontide  beam  were 

born? 
Gone  to  salute  the  rising  morn. 
Fair  laughs  the  morn,  and  soft  the  zephyr  blows, 

While  proudly  riding  o'er  the  azure  realm 
In  gallant  trim  the  gilded  vessel  goes  ; 

Youth  on  the  prow,  and  Pleasure  at  the  hehn  ; 
Regardfess  of  the  sweeping  whirlwind's  sway, 
That,  hush'd  in  grim  repose,  expects  his  evening 
prey. 

II.  3. 

"  Fill  high  the  sparkUng  bowl, 
The  rich  repast  prepare. 

Reft  of  a  crown,  he  yet  may  share  the  feast: 
Close  by  the  regal  chair 

Fell  Thirst  and  Famine  scowl 
A  baleful  smile  upon  their  baffled  guest. 


Ver.  67.  Is  the  sahle  tcarriorfled—FAwaTd  the 
Black  Prince,  dead  some  time  before  his  father. 

Ver.  7).  Fair  lauo-hs  the  mom,  and  soft  the  zephyr 
blows — Masnificence  of  Richard  the  Second's  relgu 
See  Froissart,  and  other  contemporary  writers. 

Ver.  77. — Fill  high  the  sparkling'  bowl — Richard  the 
Second,  as  we  are  told  by  Archbishop  Scroop  and  the 
confederate  Lords  in  their  manifesto,  by  Thomas  of 
Walsingham,  and  all  the  older  writers,  was  starved  to 
death.  The  story  of  his  assassination,  by  Sir  Piers 
of  Exton,  is  of  much  later  date. 


Heard  ye  the  din  of  battle  bray 
Lance  to  lance,  and  horse  to  horse  ? 
Long  years  of   havoc   urge    their  destined 
course. 
And  through  the  kindred  squadrons  mow  their 
way. 
Ye  towers  of  JuUus,  London's  lasting  shame, 
With  many  a  foul  and  midnight  murder  fed, 

Revere  his  consort's  faith,  his  father's  fame, 
And  spare  the  meek  usurper's  holy  head. 
Above,  below,  the  rose  of  snow 
•Twined  with  her  blushing  foe,  we  spread  : 


r 

11/ 


Ver.  83.  Heard  ye  the  din  of  battle  Jra^^Ruinoua 
wars  of  York  and  Lancaster. 

Ver.  87.  Ye  towers  of  Julius,  London's  lasting-  shame., 
—  With  many  afoul  and  midnijrht  murder  fed^ 
Henry  the  Sixth,  George  Duke  of  Clarence,  Edward 
the  Fifth,  Richard  Duke  of  York,  &c.  believed  to  be 
murdered  secretly  in  the  Tower  of  London.  The 
oldest  part  of  that  structure  is  vulgarly  attributed  to 
Julius  Caesar. 

Ver.  89.  Revere  his  consort's  faith—  Margaret  of 
Anjou,  a  woman  of  heroic  spirit,  who  struggled  hard 
to  save  her  husband  and  crown. 

Ibid. his  father' s  fame— Henry  the  Fifth; 

Ver.  90.    And  spare  the  meek  usurper's  hohj  head — 
Henry  the  Sixth,  very  near  being  canonized.    The 
line  of  Lancaster  had  no  right  of  inheritance  to  the 
crown. 

Ver.  9L  Ahove^  beloic,  the  rose  of  snore — The  white 
and  red  roses,  devices  Df  York  and  Lancaster. 


26 


ODES. 


The  bristled  boar  in  infant-gore 

Vrallows  reneath  the  thorny  shade. 
NcwN ,  brothers,  bending  o'er  the  accursed  loom. 
Stamp  we  our  vengeance  deep,  and  ratify  his 
doom. 


in.  1. 

"  F'hvard,  lo  !  to  sudden  fate 
'Weave  we  the  woof.     Tlie  thread  is  spun) 

Half  of  thy  heart  we  consecrate. 
(The  web  is  wove.     The  work  is  done) 
Stay,  oh  stay  !  nor  thus  forlorn 
Leave  me  imhless'd,  unpitied,  here  to  raouri  : 
In  yon  bright  track,  that  fires  the  western  sides, 
They  melt,  they  vanish  from  my  eyes. 
But  oh!  what  solemn  scenes  on  Snovrden's- height 

Descending  slovv  their  glittering  skirts  unroll  ? 
Visions  of  glory,  spare  my  aching  sight ! 

Ye  unborn  ages,  crowd  not  on  my  soul ! 


Ver.  93.  The  bristled  hoar  in  infavt-gore — The  silvei 
boar  was  the  badge  of  Richard  the  Third  ;  whence  he 
was  usually  known  in  his  own  title  by  the  name  of 
the  Boar. 

Ver.  99.  Half  of  thy  heart  ire  consecrate — Eleanor 
of  Castile  died  a  few  years  after  the  conquest  of 
Wales.  The  heroic  proof  she  gave  of  her  affection 
for  her  lord  is  well  known.  The  monuments  of  his 
regret  and  sorrow  for  the  loss  of  her  are  still  to  be 
Eeen  at  Northampton,  Gaddington,  Wallham,  and 
other  places. 


4f 


-i^^^^s 


k^  N"©  more  our  long-lost  Arthur  wc  bewail. 

ij  /  All  hail,  ye  genuine  kings,  Britannia's  isfae 
Y\ '  bail ! 

l'^  III.  2. 

\>  "  Girt  with  many  a  baron  bold 

^'y  Sublime  their  starry  fronts  they  rear ; 

^  -'■  And  gorgeous  dames  and  statesmen  old 

^  In  bearded  majesty,  appear. 

.A  In  the  midst  a  form  divine  ! 

^j     .  Her  eye  proclaims  her  of  the  Briton-line  ; 
Her  lion-port,  her  awe-commanding  face, 

^  Attemper' d  sweet  to  virgin-grace. 


Ver.  109.  Ko  more  our  lovg -lost  Arthur  we  hticail— 
It  was  the  common  belief  of  the  Welsh  nation,  that 
King  Arthur  was  still  alive  in  Fairyland,  and  would, 
return  again  to  reign  over  Britain. 

Ver.  110.  All  hail,  7je  genuine  kings.,  Britannia's 
issue,  hail — Both  Merlin  and  Taliessin  had  prophesied 
that  the  Welsh  should  regain  their  sovereignty  over 
this  island ;  which  seemed  to  be  accomplished  in  the 
house  of  Tudor. 

Ver.  117.  Her  lion-port,  her  awe-commanding  face 
— Speed,  relating  an  audience  given  by  Queen  Eliza- 
beth to  Paul  Dzialinski,  ambassador  of  Poland,  says, 

"And  thus  she,  lion-like  rising,  daunted  the  mala- 
pert orator  no  less  whh  her  stately  port  and  majesti- 
cal  deporture,  than  with  the  tartness  of  her  princelie 
checkes." 


*^i 


o-.\  ;^J 


■«!ss:&-^s?< 


What  strings  symphonious  tremble  in  the  air, 
What  strains  of  vocal  transport  round  her 
play ! 
Hear  from  the  grave,  great  Taliessin,  hear  ; 
They  breathe  a  soul  to  animate  thy  clay. 
Bright  Rapture  calls,  aud,  soaring  as  she  sings. 
Waves  in  the  eye  of  heaven  her  many-colour'd 
wings. 

III.  3. 

"  The  verse  adorn  again 

Fierce  war,  and  faithful  love, 
A.nd  truth  severe  by  fairy  fiction  drest. 

In  buskin' d  measures  move 
Pale  grief,  and  pleasing  pain. 
With  horror,  tyrant  of  the  throbbing  brea»L 

A  voice,  as  of  the  cherub-choir, 
Gales  from  blooming  Eden  bear  ; 
And  distant  warbhngs  lessen  on  my  ear, 

That  lost  in  long  futurity  expire. 


Ver.  121.  Hear  from  the  grave,  great  Taliessin^ 
kear — Taliessin,  chief  of  the  bar. Is,  flourished  in  the 
Bixth  century.  His  works  are  still  preserved,  and 
his  memory  held  in  high  veneration  among  his  coun- 
trymen. 

Ver.    128.     In  buskin'd  measures  move.  —  Shaks- 

PEARE. 

Ver.  131.    A  voke,  as  of  the  cherub-choir— VLivtoV. 
Ver.  133.    And  distant  vsarhlings  lessen  on  my  i 
Tlie  succession  of  poets  after  Milton's  time. 


15 


>^ 


Fond  impious  man,  think' st  thou  yon  sanguine 
cloud, 

Raised  by  thy  breath,  has  quench'd  the  orb 
of  day  ? 
To-morrow  he  repairs  the  golden  flood, 

And  warms  the  nations  with  redoubled  ray. 
Enough  for  me  :  with  joy  I  see 

The  different  doom  our  fates  assign. 
Be  thine  despair,  and  sceptred  care. 

To  triumph,  and  to  die,  are  mine." 
He  spoke,  and  headlong  from  the  mountain's 

height 
Deep  in  the  roaring  tide  he  plunged  to  endless 
night. 


i 


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FOR   MUSIC. 

(IRREGULAR.) 

Performed  in  the  Senate-house  at  Cambridge,  July 
■    1769,  at  the  Installation  of  the  Duke  o*"  flraftoii^ 
Chancellor  of  the  University. 


"Hence,  avaunt,  ('tis  holy  ground) 
Comus,  and  his  midnight  crew,. 

And  Ignorance  with  looks  profound. 
And  dreaming  Sloth  of  pallid  hue, 


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^ 


Mad  Sedition's  cry  profane, 

Servitude  that  hugs  her  chain, 

Nor  in  these  consecrated  bowers 

Let  painted  Flattery  hide  her  serpent  train  in 

flowers. 
Nor  Envy  base,  nor  creeping  Gain, 
Dare  the  Muse's  walk  to  stain, 
While  bright-eyed  Science  watches  round ; 
Hence,  away,  'tis  holy  ground  !" 

II. 
From  yonder  realms  of  Empyrean  day 

Bursts  on  my  ear  the'  indignant  lay : 
There  sit  the  saint/'d  sage,  the  bard  divine. 

The  few,  whom  genius  gave  to  shine 
Through  every  unborn  age,  and  undiscover'd 
clime. 

Rapt  in  celestial  transport  they  ; 

Yet  hither  oft  a  glance  from  high 

They  send  of  tender  sympathy 
To  bless  the  place,  where  on  their  opemng  soul 

First  the  genuine  ardour  stole. 
'Twas  Milton  struck  the  deep-toned  shell, 
And  as  the  choral  warblings  round  him  swell, 
Meek   Newton's    self   bends  from    his    State 

sublime, 
And  nods  his  hoary  head,  and  hstens  to  the 
rhyme. 


"  Ye  brown  o'erarching  groves, 
That  Contempladon  loves, 


Where  willowy  Camus  lingers  with  delight ! 

Oft  at  the  blush  of  dawn 

I  trod  your  level  lawn, 
Oft  woo'd  the  gleam  of  Cynthia  silver  bright 
[n  cloisters  dim,  far  from  the  haunts  of  Folly, 
With    Freedom    by   my   side,   and    soft-eyed 

Melancholy." 


But  hark  I  the  portals  sound,  and  pacing  forth 

With  solemn  steps  and  slow. 
High  potentates,  and  dames  of  royal  birth, 
And  mitred  fathers  in  long  orders  go : 
Great  Edward,  with  the  lilies  on  his  brow 

From  haughty  Gallia  torn, 
And  sad  Chatillon,  on  her  bridal  morn 


Ver.  39.  Great  Edward,  with  the  lilies  oy  his  broio] 
Edward  the  Third,  who  added  the  fleur  de  lys  of 
France  to  the  arms  of  England.  He  founded  Trinity 
College. 

Ver.  41.  ^nd  sad  Chatillon,  on  her  bridal  morni 
Mary  de  Valentia,  Countess  of  Pembroke,  daughter 
of  Guy  de  Chatillon,  comte  de  St.  Paul  in  France; 
of  whom  tradition  says,  that  her  husband  Audemar 
de  Valentia,  Earl  of  Pembroke,  was  slain  at  a  tourna- 
ment on  the  day  of  his  nuptials.  She  was  the  foun- 
dress f>f  Pembroke  College  or  Hall,  under  the  name 
jf  Aula  Mariffi  de  Valentia. 


fT: 


Itt 


That  wept  her  bleeding  Love,  and  princely 

Clare, 
And  Anjou's  heroine,  and  the  paler  rose, 
The  rival  of  her  crown  and  of  her  woes, 

And  either  Henry  there, 
The  murder'd  saint,  and  the  majestic  lord, 

That  broke  the  bonds  of  Rome. 
(Their  tears,  their  little  triumphs  o'er, 
Their  human  passions  now  no  more, 
Save  Charity,  that  glows  beyond  the  tomb.) 


Ver.  42.  That  wept  her  Heeding  Love,  and  princely 
Clare]  Elizabeth  de  Burg,  Countess  of  Clare,  was 
wife  of  John  de  Burp,  son  and  heir  of  the  Earl  of 
Ulster,  and  daughter  of  Gilbert  de  Clare,  Earl  of 
Gloucester,  by  Joan  of  Acres,  daughter  of^  Edward 
the  First.  Hence  the  poet  gives  her  the  epithet  of 
princely.     She  founded  Clare  Hall. 


^\ 


4.^ 


Ver.  43.  Jind  Jinjou's  heroine,  and  the  paler  rose"] 
Margaret  of  Anjou,  wife  of  Henry  the  Sixth,  foundress 
of  Queen's  College.  The  poet  has  celebrated  her 
conjugal  fidelity  in  'The  Bard,'  epode  2d,  line  13th. 

Elizabeth  Widville,  wife  of  Edward  the  Fourth, 
hence  called  the  paler  rose,  as  being  of  the  house  of 
York.  She  added  to  the  foundation  of  Margaret  of 
Anjou. 

Ver.  45.  And  either  Henry  there']  Henry  the  Sixth 
and  Eighth.  The  former  the  founder  of  King's,  the 
latter  the  greatest  benefactor  to  Trinity  College. 


4kfi  1 

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All  that  on  Granta's  fruitful  plain 
Rich  streams  of  regal  bounty  pour'd, 
And  bad  these  awful  fanes  and  turrets  rise, 
To  hail  their  Fitzroy's  festal  morning  come; 
And  thus  they  speak  in  soft  accord 
The  Uquid  language  of  the  skies : 


"What  is  grandeur,  what  is  power  ? 
Heavier  toil,  superior  pain. 
What  the  bright  reward  we  gain  ? 
The  grateful  memory  of  the  good. 
Sweet  is  the  breath  of  vernal  shower, 
The  bee's  collected  treasures  sweet, 
Sweet  music's  melting  fall,  but  sweeter  yet 
The  still  small  voice  of  gratitude." 


Foremost  and  leaning  from  her  golden  cloud 

The  venerable  Margaret  see  ! 
"  Welcome,  my  noble  son,  (she  cries  aloud) 

To  this,  thy  kindred  train,  and  me  : 
Pleased  in  thy  lineaments  v.e  trace 
A  Tudor's  fire,  a  Beaufort's  grace. 

Ver.  66.  The  venerable  Margaret  see]  Countess  of 
Richmond  and  Derby;  the  mother  of  Henry  the 
Seventh,  foundress  of  St.  John's  and  Christ's  Col- 
leges. 

Ver.  70.  Jl  'J'udor's  fire,  a  BeavfnrVs  grace]  The 
Countess  was  a  Beaufort,  and  married  to  a  Tudor : 
hence  the  application  of  this  line  to  the  Duke  of 
Grafton,  who  claims  descent  from  both  these  families. 

D 


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Thy  liberal  heart,  thy  judging  eye, 
The  flow^er  unheeded  shall  descry, 
And  bid  it  round  heaven's  altars  shed 
The  fragrance  of  its  blushing  head : 
Shall  raise  from  earth  the  latent  gem 
To  gUtter  on  the  diadem, 
rii, 
"  Lo  !  Granta  waits  to  lead  her  blooming 

Not  obvious,  not  obtrusive,  she 
No  vulgar  praise,  no  venal  incense  flings  ; 

Nor  dares  with  courtly  tongue  refined 
Profane  thy  inborn  royalty  of  mind  : 

She  reveres  herself  and  thee. 
With  modest  pride  to  grace  thy  youthful  brow, 
The   laureate   wreath,   that    Cecil  wore,    she 
brings, 

And  to  thy  just,  thy  gentle  hand, 

Submits  the  fasces  of  her  sway, 
While  spirits  bless' d  above  and  men  below 
Join  whh  glad  voice  the  loud  symphonious  lay. 

VIII. 

"  Through  the  wild  waves  as  they  roar, 

With  watchful  eye  and  dau.itless  mien, 

Thy  steady  course  of  honour  keep, 

Nor  fear  the  rocks  nor  seek  the  shore  : 

The  star  of  Brunswick  smiles  serene. 

And  gilds  the  horrors  of  the  deep." 

Ver.  84.  The  laureate  icreath,  that  Cecil  wore.,  she 
hrings\  Lord  Treasurer  Burleigh  was  chancellor  of 
the  University  in  tl;3  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth. 


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Hafnios,  1697,  foho :  and  also  in  Bartholinus,  p.  617 
lib.  3.  c.  1.  4to. 

ntt  er  orpitfyrir  valfalli,  S^-e. 
n  the  eleventh  century  Sicrurd,  earl  of  the  Orkney 
islands  went  with  a  fleet  of  ships  and  a  considerable 
body  of  troops  into  Ireland,  to  the  assistance  of 
Sictryg  with  the  silken  beard,  who  was  then  rnakin" 
war  on  his  father-in-law  Brian,  king  of  Dublin" 
the  earl  and  all  his  forces  were  cut  to  pieces,  and 
Sictrijff  was  in  danger  of  a  total  defeat  ;  but  the 
enemy  had  a  greater  loss  by  the  death  of  Brian, 

i.wth"'^;'''^".  ^f  *"  '^"  ^'^^^"-  On  Christmas 
day  (the  day  of  the  battle),  a  native  of  Caithness 
m  Scotland,  saw  at  a  distance  a  number  of  persons 
on  horseback  riding  full  speed  towards  a  hill,  and 
seeming  to  enter  into  it.  Curiosity  led  him  to 
follow  them,  till  looking  through  an  openinc  in  the 
rocks  he  saw  twelve  gigantic  figures  resemblin" 
women;  they  were  all  emploved  about  a  loom" 
and  as  they  wove  they  sung  the  following  dreadful 
song;  which  when  they  had  finished,  they  tore  the 


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web  into  twelve  pieces,  and  (each  taking  her  por- 
tion) galloped  six  to  the  north,  and  as  many  to  the 
south.  These  were  the  F'alkyriur,  female  divini- 
ties, servant  of  Odin  (or  fFoden)  in  the  Gothic 
mythology.  Their  name  signifies  Choosers  of  the 
slain.  They  were  mounted  on  swift  horses,  with 
drawn  swords  in  their  hands  :  and  in  the  throng  of 
battle  selected  such  as  were  destined  to  slaughter, 
and  conducted  them  to  Valkalla,  the  hall  of  Odin^ 
or  paradise  of  the  brave  :  where  they  attended  the 
banquet,  and  served  the  departed  heroes  with 
horns  of  mead  and  ale. 


Now  the  storm  begins  to  lower, 
(Haste,  the  loom  of  Hell  prepare,) 

Iron  sleet  of  arrowy  shower 
Hurtles  in  the  darken' d  air. 

Glittering  lances  are  the  loom, 
Where  the  dusky  warp  we  strain, 

Weaving  many  a  soldier's  doom, 
Orkney's  woe  and  Randver's  bane. 

See  the  grisly  texture  grow ! 

('Tis  of  human  entrails  made) 
And  the  weights,  that  play  below, 

Each  a  gasping  warrior's  head. 

Shafts  for  shuttles,  dipp'd  in  gore, 
Shoot  the  trembhng  cords  along. 

Sword,  that  once  a  monarch  bore, 
Keep  the  tissue  close  and  strong. 


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Mista,  black  terrific  maid, 

Sangrida,  and  tlilda,  see, 
Join  the  wayward  work  to  aid: 

'  I'is  the  woof  of  victory. 

Ere  the  ruddy  sun  be  set. 

Pikes  must  shiver,  javelins  sing, 

Blade  with  clattering  buckler  meet, 
Hauberk  crash,  and  helmet  ring. 

(Weave  the  crimson  web  of  war) 

Let  us  go,  and  let  us  fly, 
Where  our  friends  the  conflict  share, 

Where  they  triumph,  where  they  die. 

As  the  paths  of  Fate  we  tread, 

"Wading  through  the  ensanguined  field, 

Gondula,  and  Geira,  spread 
O'er  the  youthful  king  your  shield. 

We  the  reins  to  slaughter  give, 
Ours  to  kill,  and  ours  to  spare: 

Sphe  of  danger  he  shall  live. 

(Weave  the  crimson  web  of  war.) 

They,  whom  once  the  desert  beach 
Pent  within  its  bleak  domain. 

Soon  their  ample  sway  shall  stretch 
O'er  the  plenty  of  the  plain. 

Low  the  dauntless  earl  is  laid. 

Gored  with  many  a  gaping  wound; 

Fate  demands  a  nobler  head ; 
Soon  a  king  shall  bite  the  ground. 


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38  ODES. 

Long  liis  loss  shall  Erin  weep, 
Ne'er  again  his  likeness  see; 

Long  her  strains  in  sorrow  steep: 
Strains  of  immortality! 

Horror  covers  all  the  heath, 
Clouds  of  carnage  blot  the  sun 

Sisters,  weave  the  web  of  death. 
Sisters,  cease;  the  work  is  done. 

Hail  the  task,  and  hail  the  hands! 

Songs  of  joy  and  triumph  sing! 
Joy  to  the  victorious  bands; 

Triumph  to  the  younger  king. 

Mortal,  thou  that  hearest  the  tale, 
Learn  the  tenour  of  our  song. 

Scotland,  through  each  winding  vaie 
Far  and  wide  the  notes  prolong. 

Sisters,  hence  with  spurs  of  speed: 
Each  her  thundering  falchion  wieli. 

Each  bestride  her  sable  steed. 
Hurry,  hurry  to  the  field! 


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FROM  THE  NOURSE  TONGUE. 

The  original  is  to  be  found  in  Bartholinus,  ile  Causis 
contemnendoe  Mortis  ;  Hafnite,  1689,  quarto,  p.  632. 

Upreis  Odinn  allda  gautr,  S^c. 

Uprose  the  king  of  men  with  speed, 
And  saddled  straight  his  coal  black  steed  : 
Down  the  yawning  steep  he  rode. 
That  leads  to  Hela's  drear  abode. 
Plim  the  dog  of  darkness  spied  ; 
His  shaggy  throat  he  open'd  wide. 
While  from  his  jaws,  with  carnage  fill'd, 
Foam  and  human  gore  distill' d  : 

Ver.  4.  That  lead.i  to  Hela's- drear  abode']  Niftheliar, 
the  hell  oftheGotliic  nation?,  consisted  of  nine  worlds, 
to  which  were  devoted  all  such  as  died  of  sickness,  old 
age,  or  by  any  other  means  than  in  battle.  Ovei  it 
presided  Hela,  the  sjoddess  of  death.      Mason. 

Hela,  in  the  Edda,  is  described  with  a  dreadful 
countenance,  and  her  body  half  flesh-colour,  and  half 
blue.      Gray. 

Ver.  5.  Him  the  dorr  of  darkness  spied"]  The  Edda 
gives  this  dog  the  name  of  Managarmar.  He  fed 
upon  the  Jives  of  those  that  were  \o  die.      Mason. 


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Hoarse  he  bays  with  hideous  din, 
Eyes  that  glow:  and  fangs  that  grin; 
And  long  pursues,  with  fruitless  yell, 
The  father  of  the  powerful  spell. 
Onward  still  his  way  he  takes 
(The  groaning  earth  beneath  him  shakes,) 
Till  full  before  his  fearless  eyes 
The  portals  nine  of  hell  arise. 

Right  against  the  eastern  gate, 
By  the  moss-grown  pile  he  sate; 
Where  long  of  yore  to  sleep  was  laid 
The  dust  of  the  prophetic  maid. 
Placing  to  the  northern  chme, 
Thrice  he  traced  the  Runic  rhyme; 
Thrice  pronounced,  in  accents  dread. 
The  thrilling  verse  that  wakes  the  dead; 
Till  from  out  the  hollow  ground 
Slowly  breathed  a  sullen  sound. 

PROPHETESS. 

What  call  unknown,  what  charms  presume 
To  break  the  quiet  of  the  tomb? 
Who  thus  afflicts  my  troubled  sprite, 
And  drags  me  from  the  realms  of  night? 
Long  on  these  mouldering  bones  have  beat 
The  winter's  snow,  the  summer' sJieat, 
The  drenching  dews,  and  driving  raini 
Let  me,  let  me  sleep  again. 
Who  is  he,  vdth  voice  unblest, 
That  calls  me  from  the  bed  of  rest? 


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ODIN. 

A  traveller,  to  thee  unknown, 
Is  he  that  calls,  a  warrior's  son. 
Thou  the  deeds  of  Hght  shalt  know: 
Tell  me  what  i?  done  below. 
For  whom  yon  glittering  board  is  spread, 
Drest  for  whom  yon  golden  bed? 

PROPHETESS. 

MantUng  in  the  goblet  see 
The  pure  beverage  of  the  bee: 
O'er  it  hangs  the  shield  of  gold; 
'Tis  the  drink  of  Balder  bold; 
Balder's  head  to  death  is  given. 
Pain  can  reach  the  sons  of  heaven! 
Unwilhng  I  my  lips  unclose: 
Leave  me,  leave  me  to  repose. 


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Once  again  my  call  obey, 
Prophetess,  arise,  and  say. 


Ver.  40.  Tell  me  what  is  done  below']  Odin  was 
anxious  about  the  fate  of  his  son  Balder,  who  had 
dreamed  he  was  soon  to  die.  He  was  killed  by  Odin's 
other  son,  Hoder,  who  was  himself  slain  by  Vali,  the 
fion  of  Odin  and  Rinda,  consonant  with  this  prophecy. 
See  the  Edda. 

Ver.  51.  Once  again  my  call  obeyl  Women  were 
looked  upon  by  th«»  Gothic  nations  as  having  a  pecu- 


M 


What  dangers  Odin's  child  await, 
Who  the  author  of  his  fate? 


PROPHETESS. 


In  Hoder's  hand  the  hero's  doom; 
Plis  brother  sends  him  lO  the  tomb. 
Now  my  weary  hps  I  close: 
Leave  me,  leave  me  to  repose. 


Prophetess,  my  spell  obey, 
Once  again  arise,  and  say, 
Who  tiie'  avenger  of  his  guilt. 
By  whom  shall  Hoder's  blood  be  spilt? 

PKOPHF.TESS. 

In  the  caverns  of  the  west, 
By  Odin's  fierce  embrace  compress'd, 

iiar  insight  into  futurity  ;  and  some  there  were  tha 
made  profession  of  magric  arts  and  divination.  Thesj; 
travelled  round  the  countrj-,  and  were  received  in 
every  house  with  great  respect  and  honour.  Such  a 
woman  bore  the  name  of  Volva  Seidkona  or  Spakona. 
The  dress  of  Thorbiorga,  one  of  these  prophetesses, 
is  described  at  large  in  Eirik's  Rauda  Sogu,  (Apud 
Bartholin,  lib.  i.  cap.  iv.  p.  666) .  "  She  had  on  a  blue 
vest  spangled  all  over  with  stones,  a  necklace  of  glass 
beads,  and  a  cap  made  of  the  skin  of  a  black  lamb 
lined  with  white  cat-skin.  She  leaned  on  a  staff 
adorned  with  brass,  with  a  round  head  set  with  stones; 
and  was  girt  with  an  Hunlandish  belt  at  which  hung 


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A  wondrous  boy  shall  Rinda  bear, 
Who  ne'er  shall  comb  his  raven  hair, 
Nor  wash  his  visage  in  the  stream, 
Nor  see  the  sun's  departing  beam, 
Till  he  on  Hoder's  corse  shall  smile 
Flaming  on  the  funeral  pile. 
Now  my  weary  lips  I  close: 
Leave  me,  leave  me  to  repose. 


Yet  a  while  my  call  obey; 
Prophetess,  awake,  and  say, 
What  virgins  these,  in  speechless  woe 
That  bend  to  earth  their  solemn  brow, 


her  pouch  full  of  magical  instruments.  Her  buskins 
were  of  rough  calf-skin,  bound  on  with  thongs  studded 
with  knobs  of  brass,  and  her  gloves  of  white  cat-skin, 
the  fur  turned  inwards,"  ice.  They  were  also  called 
Fiolkyngi.)  or  Fiolkunnug,  i.  e.  Multiscia  ;  and  Visin- 
dakona,  i.  e.  Oraculorum  Mulier ;  JVornir,  i.  e.  Pares. 
Ghav. 

Ver.  66.  JVTio  7ie'er  shall  comb  his  raven  hair"]  King 
Harold  made  (according  to  the  singular  custom  of  hig 
time)  a  solemn  vow  never  to  dip  or  comb  his  hair,  till 
he  should  have  extended  his  sway  over  the  whole 
country.     Herbert's  Iceland.     Translat,  p.  39. 

Ver.  75.  What  virgins  these,  in  speechless  woe^  "It 
is  not  certain,"  says  Mr.  Herbert,  "  what  Odin  means 
by  the  question  concerning  the  weeping  virgins  ;  but 
it  has  been  supposed  that  it  alludes  to  the  embassy 


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w, 


To  break  my  iron  sleep  again, 
Till  Lok  has  burst  his  tenfold  chain ; 
Never,  till  substantial  night 
Has  reassumed  her  ancient  right; 
Till  wrapp'd  in  flames,  in  ruin  hurl'd. 
Sinks  the  fabric  of  the  world. 


THE  TRIUMPHS  OF  OWEN*. 

A  FRAGMENT. 

From  Mr.  Evans's  Specimens  of  the  Welsh  Poetry; 
London,  1764,  quarto,  p.  25,  and  page  127.  Owen 
succeeded  his  father,  Griffith  app  Cynan,  in  the 
principality  of  North  Wales,  a.  d.  1137.  This  bat- 
tle was  fought  in  the  year  1157. 

Jones's  Relics,  vol.  ii.  p.  36 

Owen's  praise  demands  my  song 
Owen  swift,  and  Owen  strong  ; 

Ver.  90.  T\ll  Lok  has  burst  his  tenfold  chain]  Lok 
is  the  evil  being,  who  continues  in  chains  till  the  twi- 
light of  the  gods  approaches  :  when  he  shall  break 
his  bonds,  the  human  race,  the  stars,  and  sun,  shall 
disappear;  the  earth  sink  in  the  seas,  and  fire  con- 
sume the  skies:  even  Odin  himself  and  his  kindred 
deities  shall  pen.-li.     Mason 

*  The  original  Welsh  of  the  above  poem  was  the 
composition  of  Gwalchmai  the  son  of  Melir,  imme- 
^'■sitely  after  Prince  Owen  Gwynedd  had  defeated 


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Fairest  flower  of  Roderic's  stem, 
Gwyneth's  shield,  and  Britain's  gem. 
He  nor  heaps  his  brooded  stores, 
Nor  on  all  profusely  pours; 
Lord  of  every  regal  art, 
Liberal  hand  and  open  heart, 

Bia:  with  hosts  of  mighty  name, 
Snuadrons  then  against  him  came; 
I  his  the  force  of  Eirin  hiding, 
Side  by  side  as  proudly  riding, 
On  her  shadow  long  and  gay 
Lochlin  ploughs  the  watery  way; 
There  the  Norman  sails  afar 
Catch  the  winds  and  join  the  war: 
Black  and  huge  along  they  sweep, 
Burdens  of  the  angry  deep. 

Dauntless  on  his  native  sands 
The  dragon  son  of  Mona  stands; 
In  glittering  arms  and  glory  dress'd, 
High  he  rears  his  ruby  crest. 

»*•>.»;  combined  fleets  of  Iceland,  Denms  rk,  and  Nor- 
way, which  had  invaded  his  territory  on  the  coast  oi 
/aiglesea. 

Ver.  4.  Qwyneth]     North  Wales. 

Vpr.l4.  Lochlin']  Denmark. 

Ver.  20.  The  dragon  son  of  Mr^a  .-lands]  The  rod 
Dragon  is  the  device  of  Cadwallader,  which  all  his 
descendants  bore  on  the';  banners.     Mason 


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nere  the  thundering  strokes  begin, 
There  the  press,  and  there  the  din; 
Talymalfra's  rocky  shore 
Echoing  to  the  battle's  roar. 
Check' d  by  the  torrent  tide  of  blood, 
Backward  Meinai  rolls  his  flood; 
While,  heap'd  his  master's  feet  around, 
Prostrate  warriors  gnaw  the  ground. 

Where  his  glowing  eyeballs  turn, 
Thousand  banners  round  him  burn, 
W^here  he  points  his  purple  spear, 
Hasty,  hasty  rout  is  there. 
Marking  with  indignant  eye 
Fear  to  stop,  and  shame  to  fly. 
There  confusion,  terror's  child, 
Conflict  fierce,  and  ruin  wild, 
Agony,  that  pants  for  breath. 
Despair  and  honourable  death. 


VcT.  23.  TTiere  the  thundering  strokes  begin]  "  It 
seems  (says  Dr.  Evans,  p.  26,)  that  the  fleet  landed 
in  some  part  of  the  Firth  of  Menai,  and  that  it  was  a 
Jiind  of  mixed  engagement,  some  fighting  from  the 
shore,  others  from  the  ships:  and  probably  the  great 
slaughter  was  owing  to  its  l)eing  low  water,  and  Ihat 
they  could  not  saU. 


'^ 


Selected  from  the  Gododin  of  Aneurin,*  styled  the 
monarch  of  the  Bards.  He  flourished  about  the 
time  of  Taiiessin,  a.  d.  570.  See  Mr.  Evans's 
Specimens,  pp.  71  and  73. 

Had  I  but  the  torrent's  might, 

With  headlong  rage  and  wild  affright 

Upon  Deira's  squadron  hurl'd 

To  rush,  and  sweep  them  from  the  world  I 

Too,  too  secure  in  youthful  pride, 
By  them,  my  friend,  my  Hoel  died, 

*  "Aneurin  with  the  flowing  Muse,  King  of  Bards, 
brother  to  Gildas  Albanius  the  historian,  lived  under 
Mynyddawg  of  Edinburgh,  a  prince  of  the  North, 
whose  Eurdorchogion,  or  warriors  wearing  the  golden 
torques,  three  hundred  and  sixty-three  in  number, 
were  all  slain,  except  Aneurin  and  two  others,  in  a 
battle  with  the  Saxons  at  Cattraetb,  on  the  eastern 
coast  of  Yorkshire.  His  Gododin,  an  heroic  poexp 
written  on  that  event,  is  perhaps  the  olaest  ar... 
noblest  production  of  that  age."  Jones  s  Relics, 
vol.  i.  p.  17. 

Ver.  3.  Upon  Deira's  squadron  hurl'd']  The  king- 
dom of  Peira  included  the  counties  of  Yorkshire, 
Durham,  Lancashire,  Westmoreland,  and  Cumber- 
land. 


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Great  Clan's  son:  of  Madoc  o  d 
He  ask'd  no  heaps  of  hoarded  gold; 
Alone  in  nature's  weahh  array'd, 
He  ask'd  and  had  the  lovely  maid. 

To  Cattraeth's  vale  in  glittering  row, 
Thrice  two  hundred  warriors  go: 
Every  warrior's  manly  neck 
Chains  of  regal  honour  deck, 
Wreathed  in  many  a  golden  hnk: 
From  the  golden  cup  they  drink 
Nectar  that  the  hoes  produce, 
Or  the  grape's  ecstatic  juice. 
Flush' d  with  mirth  and  hope  they  hurn: 
But  none  from  Cattraeth's  vale  return, 
Save  Aeron  brave,  and  Conan  strong, 
(Bursting  through  the  bloody  throng) 
And  I,  the  meanest  of  them  all. 
That  hve  to  weep  and  sing  their  fall. 

Have  ye  seen  the  tusky  boar*, 
Or  the  bull,  with  sulle-i  roar, 
On  surrounding  foes  advance? 
60  Caradoc  bore  his  lance. 

Coxan's  name,  my  lay   rehearse, 
Build  to  him  the  lofty  verse, 

Have  ye  seen,  c^-r.]  This  and  the  following  short 
fragment  ought  to  have  appeared  among  the  Posthu- 
Sious  Pieces  of  Gray;  but  it  was  thought  preferable 


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Sacred  tribute  of  the  bard, 
Verse,  the  hero's  sole  reward- 
As  the  flame's  devouring  force; 
As  the  whirlwind  in  its  course; 
As  the  thunder's  fiery  stroke, 
Glancing  on  the  shiver' d  oak; 
Did  the  sword  of  Conan  mow 
The  crimson  harvest  of  the  foe. 


EPITArH 


ON    MKS.    CLARKE. 


Lo!  where  this  silent  marble  weeps, 
A  friend,  a  wife,  a  mother  sleeps: 
A  heart  'wdthin  whose  sacred  cell 
The  peaceful  virtues  loved  to  dwell. 
Affection  warm,  and  faith  sincere, 
And  soft  humanity  were  there. 
In  agonjs  ii   death  resign' d, 
She  felt  the  wound  she  left  behind. 
Her  infant  image  nere  below, 
Sits  smiling  on  a  father's  w^oe: 
Whom  what  awaii^,  while  yet  he  strays 
Along  the  lonely  vaic  of  days? 


to  insert  them  in  this  place  with  the  preceding  frag- 
ment from  the  Gododin. 


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A  pang,  to  secret  sorrow  dear; 

A  sigh;  an  unavailing  tear; 

'^ill  time  shall  every  grief  remove, 

With  life,  with  memory,  and  with  love. 


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EPITAPH 

ON    SIR    WILLIAM    WILLIAMS. 

Written  at  the  request  of  Mr.  Frederick  Montagu, 
who  intended  to  have  inscribed  it  on  a  moniunent 
at  Belleisle,  at  the  siege  of  which  Sir  W.  Williams 
was  killed,  1761. 

Heke,  foremost  in  the  dangerous  paths  of  fame, 
Young  Williams  fought  for   England's  fair 
renown; 
His  Mind  each  Muse,  each  Grace  adorn'd  his 
frame, 
Nor  envy  dared  to  view  him  with  a  frown. 

At  ALx,  his  voluntary  sword  he  drew, 

There  first  in  blood  his  infant  honour  seal'd; 

From  fortune,  pleasure,  science,  love  he  flew, 
And  scorn'd  repose  when  Britain  took  the 
field. 

With  eyes  of  flame,  and  cool  undaunted  breast, 
Victor  he  stood  on  Belleisle's  rocky  steeps — 

Ah,  gallant  youth!  this  marble  tells  the  rest. 
Where    melanchtjly  friendship    bends,    and 
weeps. 


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Thb  curfew  tolls  the  knell  of  parting  day. 
The  lowing  herd  winds  slowly  o'er  the  lea, 

The  ploughman  homeward  plods  his  weary  way 
And  leaves  the  world  to  darkness  and  to  me. 

Now  fades  the  ghmmering  landscape  on  the 
sight, 

And  all  the  air  a  solemn  stillness  holds, 
Save  where  the  beetle  wheels  his  droning  flight, 

And  drowsy  tinkhngs  lull  the  distant  folds: 

Save  that  from  yonder  ivy-mantled  tower. 
The  moping  owl  does  to  the  moon  complain 

Of  such  as,  wandering  to  her  secret  bower; 
Molest  her  ancient  sohtary  reign. 

Hark!  how  the  sacred  calm  that  breathes  around, 
Bids  every  fierce  tumultuous  passion  cease; 

In    still    small    accents  whispering  from  the 
ground, 
A  grateful  earnest  of  eternal  peace. 


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Beneath  those  rugged  elms,  that  yew-tree's 
shade, 
Where  heaves  the  turf  in  many  a  mouldering 
heap, 
Each  in  his  narrow  cell  for  ever  laid, 

The  rude  forefathers  of  the  hamlet  sleep. 

The  breezy  call  of  incense-breathing  morn, 
The  swallow  twittering  from  the  straw-built 
shed, 
The  cock's  shrill  clarion,  or  the  echoing  horn. 
No  more  shall  rouse  them  from  their  lowly 
bed. 

For  them  no  more  the  blazing  hearth  shall  burn, 
Or  busy  housewife  ply  her  evening  care; 

No  children  nm  to  Hsp  their  sire's  return. 
Or  cUmb  his  knees  the  envied  kiss  to  share. 

Oft  did  the  harvest  to  their  sickle  yield. 

Their  furrow  oft  the  stubborn  glebe  has  broke; 
How  jocund  did  they  drive  their  team  afield! 

How  bow'd  the  woods  beneath  their  sturdy 
stroke! 
Let  not  ambition  mock  their  u?eful  toil, 

Their  homely  joys,  and  destmy  obscure; 
Nor  grandeur  hear  with  a  disdainful  smile 

The  short  and  simple  annals  of  the  poor. 

The  boast  of  heraldry,  the  pomp  of  power, 
And  all  that  beauty,  all  that  wealth  e'er  gave. 

Await  alilce  the'  ine\'itable  hour: 
The  paths  of  glory  lead  but  to  the  grave. 


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Nor  you,  ye  proud,  impute  to  these  the  fault, 
If  memory  o'er  their  tomb  no  trophies  raise 

Where  through  the  lon^-drawn  aisle  and  frettec 
vauh, 
The  peahng  anthem  swells  the  note  of  praise 

Can  storied  urn,  or  animated  bust, 
Back  to  its  mansion  call  the  fleeting  breath? 

Can  honour's  voice  provoke  the  silent  dust, 
Or  flattery  sooth  the  dull  cold  ear  of  death? 

Perhaps  in  this  neglected  spot  is  laid 

Some  heart  once  pregnant  with  celestial  fire; 

Hands,   that   the   rod   of   empire   might   have 
sway'd, 
Or  waked  to  ecstasy  the  living  lyre: 

But  knowledge  to  their  eyes  her  ample  page 
Rich  with  the  spoils  of  time  did  ne'er  unroll; 

Chill  penury  repress' d  their  noble  rage, 
And  froze  the  genial  current  of  the  soul. 

Full  many  a  gem  of  purest  ray  serene 

The  dark  imfathom'd  caves  of  ocean  bear; 

Full  many  a  flower  is  born  to  blush  unseen. 
And  waste  its  sweetness  on  the  desert  air. 

Some   village-Hampden,  that,  with  dauntless 
breast, 
The  Httle  tyrant  of  his  fields  \vithstood. 
Some  mute  inglorious  Milton  here  may  rest. 
Some  Cromwell  guiltless  of  his  country's 
blood. 


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The'  apphiuse  of  listening  senates  to  command 
The  threats  of  pain  and  ruin  to  despise, 

To  scatter  plenty  o'er  a  smiling  land, 
And  read  their  history  in  a  nation's  eyes. 

Their  lot  forbade:  nor  circumscribed  alonp 
Their  growing  virtues,  but  their  crimes  con- 
fined; 

Forbade  to  wade  through  slaughter  to  a  throne,  ' 
And  shut  the  gates  of  mercy  on  mankind. 

The  struggling  pangs  of  conscious  truth  to  hidej 
To  quench  the  blushes  of  ingenuous  shame. 

Or  heap  the  shrine  of  luxury  and  pride 
With  incense  kindled  at  the  Muse's  flame. 

Far  from  the  madding  crowd's  ignoble  strife, 
I'heir  sober  wishes  never  learn'd  to  stray; 

Along  the  cool  sequester' d  vale  of  life 
They  kept  the  noiseless  tenour  of  their  way. 


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Yet  e'en  these  bones  from  insult  to  protect. 
Some  frail  memorial  still  erected  nigh. 

With  uncouth  rhymes  and  shapeless  sculpture 
deck'd, 
Implores  the  passing  tribute  of  a  sigh. 

Their  name,  their  years,  spelt  by  the  unletter'd 
Muse,- 

The  place  of  fame  and  elegy  supply: 
And  many  a  holy  text  around  she  strews, 

That  teach  the  rustic  moralist  to  die. 


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ELEGY. 


For  who,  to  dumb  forgetfulness  a  prey 
This  pleasing  anxious  being  e'er  resign'd, 

Left  the  warm  precincts  of  the  cheerful  day, 
Nor  cast  one  longing  Ungering  look  behind! 

On  some  fond  breast  the  parting  soul  relies, 
Some  pious  drops  the  closing  eye  requires; 

E'en  from  the  tomb  the  voice  of  nature  cries. 
E'en  in  our  ashes  live  their  wonted  fires. 

For  thee,  who,  mindful  of  the  unhonour'd  dead. 
Dost  in  these  lines  the  artless  tale  relate; 

If  chance  by  lonely  contemplation  led, 
Some  kindred  spirit  shall  inquire  thy  fate, 

Haply  some  hoary  headed  swain  may  say, 
"  Oft  have  we  seen  him  at  the  peep  of  dawn 

Brushing  Nnth  hasty  steps  the  dews  away 
To  meet  the  sun  upon  the  upland  lawn. 

"  There  at  the  foot  of  yonder  nodding  beech. 
That  wreathes  its  old  fantastic  roots  so  high, 

His  listless  length  at  noontide  would  he  stretch, 
And  pore  upon  the  brook  that  babbles  by. 

♦'  Him  have  we  seen  the  greenwood  side  along. 
While  o'er  the  heath  we  hied,   our  labour 
done. 

Oft  as  the  woodlark  piped  her  farewell  song. 
With  wistful  eyes  pursue  the  setting  sun*. 

♦  This  stanza,  which  completes  the  account  of  the 
Poet's  day,  although  in  the  author's  MS.,  has  hitherto 


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"  Hard  by  yon  wood,  now  smiling  as  in  scorn, 
I^uttering  liis  wayward  fancies  he  would  rove; 

No^  drooping,  woful-wan,  like  one  forlorn, 
Or  crazed  with  care,  or  cross'd  in  hopeless 
love. 

"  One  morn  I  miss'd  him  on  the  custom'd  hill 
Along  the  heath  and  near  his  favourite  tree; 

Another  came;  nor  yet  beside  the  rill, 
Nor  up  the  lawn,  nor  at  the  wood  was  he: 

"  The  next,  with  dirges  due  in  sad  array 
Slow  through  the  church-way  path  we  saw 
him  borne, — 

Approach  and  read  (for  thou  canst  read)  the  lay, 
Graved  on  the  stone  beneath  yon  aged  thorn." 


TJIE  EPITAPH.* 

Here  rests  his  head  upon  the  lap  of  earth 
A  youth;  to  fortune  and  to  fame  unknown: 

Fair  science  frown'd  not  on  his  humble  birth, 
And  melancholy  mark'd  him  for  her  own. 


appeared  but  in  the  form  of  a  note ;  but,  as  Mr.  Mason 
observes,  "without  it  we  have  only  his  morning  walk 
and  his  noontide  repose." 

♦  "Before  the  Epitaph,   Mr.   GJray  originally  in- 
serted a  very  beautiful  ?tanza,  which  was  printed  in 


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Large  was  his  bounty,  and  his  soul  sincere, 
Heaven  did  a  recompense  as  largely  send: 

He  gave  to  misery  (all  he  had)  a  tear, 

He  gain'd  from  Heaven  ('twas  all  he  wish'd) 
a  friend. 

No  farther  seek  his  merits  to  disclose, 

Or  draw  his  frailties  from  their  dread  abode, 

(There  they  alike  in  tremblin*  liope  repose,) 
The  bosom  of  his  Father  and  his  God. 


some  of  tliR  first  editions,  but  afterwards  omitted, 
bec:nise  he  tliousht  that  it  was  too  loiifr  a  pareiitiiesia 
in  this  place.  The  lines  however  are,  in  themselves, 
exquisitely  fine,  and  demand  preservation  : 

«<  'There  scatter'd  oft,  the  earliest  of  the  year. 
By  hands  unseen  are  showers  of  violets  found  ; 

The  redbreast  loves  to  build  and  warble  there, 
And  little  footsteps  liglitly  print  the  ground.'  " 

The  Editor  of  the  present  edition  of  the  Poet,  has 
ventured  to  recall  into  the  FJen-y,  one  stanza  (xht 
fourth)  which  appears  only  in  the  margin  of  former 
editions  ;  upon  a  hint  received  from  a  pentieman 
resident  at  Sioke  Park,  in  tlie  following  letter:  "I 
do  not  see  how  the  edition  could  suifer  in  a  critical 
point  of  view,  by  the  restoration  of  Ihat  fine  stanza 
of  Gray's  into  the  body  of  the  Ele'.'y.  It  is  acknow- 
leged  by  ]\Iason  and  others,  to  be  ecjual  to  any  in  the 
poem  ;  and  certainly  it  contains  more  to  characterise 
it  than  any  other.  The  cause  of  its  unfortunate  re- 
jection by  the  author  is  manifest,  and  shows  that  it 
was  not  from  his  having  disapproved  it.    From  two 


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precedine  and  a  following  stanza,  tchich  were  rejected 
with  't  ^e  withdrew  two  ideas,  and  some  lines,  which 
he  transferred  and  worked  up  in  other  parts  of  the 
Elegy,  thus  leaving  this  line  stanza  insulated;  and 
because  it  so  became  uniitted  for  the  particular  place 
for  which  he  had  first  designed  it,  he  dropped  it  alto- 
gether. But  yet  it  contained  only  an  abrupt  and 
Eudden  retlection;  which  was  suitabi-e  equally  to  other 
passages  or  places,  though  not  employed  theie.  This 
he  appears  not  to  have  considered;  and  he  thereby 
incautiously  despoiled  his  poem  of  a  sentiment,  not 
only  fitting,  but  morever  eminently  requisite.  Now 
this  sentiment  finds  a  natural  place  immediately 
after  the  tliird  stanza ; — after  the  description  of 
darkness  and  silence,  and  before  the  minuter  particu- 
lars jf  the  church-yard  are  entered  upon.  It  would, 
therefon;,  I  think,  most  sublimely  constitute  the 
fourth  stanza  of  the  l^legy.  In  that  place,  it  would 
prepare  the  mind  for  the  solemn  sequel,  and  throw  a 
religious  sanctity  over  it ;  at  the  same  time  correct- 
ing and  explaining,  what  has  always  given  me  and 
others,  offence  and  pain, — the  equivocal  expression, 
'  each  in  his  narrow  cell, /or  ever  laid,'  showing,  that 
ihe  Poet  only  nuant  'for  ever,'  with  reference  to  the 
scenes  oithis  pro-ent  life." 


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Lv  vain  to  me  the  smiling  mornings  s^^l.if 

And  reddening  Fhcebus  lifts  his  golden  .'iie 
The  birds  in  vain  their  amorous  descant  jom  . 

Or  cheerful  lields  resume  their  green  attire  •: 
These  ears,  alas  I  for  other  notes  repine, 

A  different  object  do  these  eyes  require : 
My  lonely  anguish  melta  no  heart  but  mine  ; 

And  in  my  breast  the  imperfect  joys  expire. 
Yet  morning  smiles  the  busy  race  to  cheer, 

And  new-born  pleasure  brings  to  happier  men 
The  fields  to  all  their  wonted  tribute  bear  : 

To  warm  their  little  loves  the  birds  complain 
I  fruitless  mourn  to  him  that  cannot  hear. 

And  weep  the  more,  because  I  weep  in  vain 


^ 


n 


m^>' 


1 


A  LONG  STORY. 


In  the  year  1750  Mr.  Gray  finished  his  celebrated 
Elegy,  and  communicated  it  to  his  friend  Mr.  Wal- 
pole,  whose  good  taste  was  too  much  charmed  to 
suffer  him  to  withhohl  the  sight  of  it  from  his 
acquaintance  ;  accordingly  it  was  shown  about  for 
some  time  in  manuscript,  and  received  with  all  the 
applause  it  so  justly  merited.  Amongst  the  rest  of 
Ine  fashionable  world,  Lady  Cobham,  who  resided 
at  Stoke-Pogis,  and  to  whom  the  mansion  house  and 
park  belonged,  had  read  and  admired  it.  Wishing 
to  be  acquainted  with  the  author,  her  relation  Miss 
Speed,  and  lady  Schaub  then  at  her  house,  under- 
took to  bring  this  about,  by  making  him  the  first 
visit.  He  had  been  accustomed  to  spend  his 
summer  vacations  from  Cambridge,  at  the  house 
occupied  by  Mrs.  Rogers  his  aunt,  whither  his 
mother  and  her  sister.  Miss  Antrobus,  had  also  re- 
tired, situated  at  the  entrance  upon  Stoke  Common, 
called  West  End,  and  about  a  mile  from  the  manoi 
house.  He  happened  to  be  from  home  when  the 
ladies  arrived  at  the  sequester'd  habitation,  and 
when  he  returned,  was  not  a  little  surprised  to  find, 
written  on  one  of  his  papers  in  the  parlour,  the 
following  note  :  "  Lady  Schaub's  compliments  to 
Mr.  Gray ;  she  is  sorry  not  to  have  found  him  at 
home,  to  tell  him  that  Lady  Brown  is  very  well." 
Such  a  compliment  necessitated  him  to  return  the 
Tisit;  and  as  the  baginning  of  the  acquaintance 


xl 


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eeemed  to  have  a  romantic  character,  he  very  soon 
composed  the  following  ludicrous  account  of  the 
adventure,  for  the  amusement  of  the  ladies  io 
question,  which  he  entitled,  "A  LONG  STORY." 

In  Britain's  isle,  no  matter  where, 
An  ancient  pile  of  building  stands*  : 

The  Huntingdons  and  Hattons  there 
Employ' d  the  power  of  fairy  hands 

To  raise  the  ceiling's  fretted  height  t, 
Each  pannel  in  achicA'en    nts  clc  hing, 

Rich  windows  that  exclude  the  light, 
And  passages,  that  lead  to  nothing. 

*  In  the  16th  century,  the  house  belonged  to  the 
Earls  of  Huntingdon,  and  to  the. family  of  Hatton. 
On  the  death  of  Lady  Cobham,  1760,  the  estate  was 
purchased  from  her  executors  by  the  late  Hon. 
Thomas  Penn,  Lord  proprietary  of  Pennsylvania:  his 
son,  the  present  John  Penn,  Esq.,  finding  the  interior 
of  the  ancient  mansion  in  a  state  of  considerable 
decay,  it  was  taken  down  in  the  year  17S9,  with  the 
exception  of  a  wing,  which  was  preserved,  partly  for 
the  sake  of  its  etfect  as  a  ruin,  harmonising  with  the 
church-yard,  the  poet's  house,  and  the  surrounding 
scenery. 

fThe  style  of  building  called  Queen  Elizabeth's 
is  here  admirably  described,  both  with  regard  to  its 
beauties  and  defects,  the  third  and  fourth  stanzas 
delineate  the  fantastic  manners  of  the  time  with  equa. 
truth  and  humour. 


>, 


r^ 


r\ 


^1  ';^.l 


^ 


11 


? 


4- 


I 


LO.VG   STORY. 

F'ull  oft  within  the  spacious  walls, 
When  he  had  fifty  winters  a'er  him, 

My  grave  Lord-Keeper*  led  the  brawls+- 
The  seals  and  maces  danced  before  him. 

His  bushy  beard  and  shoestrings  green, 
His  high  crown'd  hat,  and  satin  doublet, 

Moved  the  stout  heart  of  England's  queen, 
Tho'  Pope  and  Spaniard  could  not  trouble  it. 

What,  in  the  very  first  beginning! 

Shame  of  the  versifying  tribe! 
Your  history  whither  are  you  spinning! 

Can  you  do  nothing  but  describe? 

A  house  there  is  (and  that's  enough) 
From  whence  one  fatal  morning  issues 

A  brace  of  warriors,  not  in  buff, 
But  rustling  in  their  silks  and  tissues. 

The  first  came  cap-a-pee  from  Francet; 

Her  conquering  destiny  fulfilling. 
Whom  meaner  beauties  eye  askance, 

And  vainly  ape  her  art  of  killing. 


*  Sir  Christopher    Hatton,   promoted   by  Queen 
Elizabeth  for  his  graceful  person  and  fine  danring. 

i  Brawls  were  figure-dances  then  in  fashion. 


M 


The  other  amazon*  kind  heaven 
Had  arm'd  with  spirit,  wit,  and  satire; 

But  Cobham  had  the  polish  given, 
And  tipp'd  her  arrows  with  good  nature, 

To  celebrate  her  eyes,  her  air — 
Coarse  panegyrics  would  but  tease  her, 

Melissa  is  her  "nom  de  guerre." 
Alas,  who  would  not  wish  to  please  her! 

With  bonnet  blue  and  capuchine, 
And  aprons  long,  they  hid  their  armo^ir; 

And  veil'd  their  weapons  bright  and  k'^en. 
In  pity  to  the  country  farmer. 

Fame,  in  the  shape  of  Mr.  Purtt, 
(By  this  time  all  the  parish  know  it) 

Had  told  that  thereabouts  there  lurk'd 
A  wicked  imp  they  call  a  poet: 

Who  prowl' d  the  country  far  and  near, 
Bewitch' d  the  children  of  the  peasants, 

Dried  up  the  cows,  and  lamed  the  deer, 
And  suck'd  the  eggs,  and  kill'd  the  pheasants. 

*  Miss  Harriet  Speed,  Lady  C.'a  relation,  after- 
wards married  to  the  Count  de  Viry,  Sardinian  En- 
voy at  the  Court  of  London. 


i  The  Rev.  Mr.  Purt,  tutor  to  the  Duke  of  Bridge- 
water,  then  at  Eton  school. 


?V' 


M 


V 


My  lady  heard  their  joint  petition, 

Swore  by  her  coronet  and  ermine, 
She'd  issue  out  her  high  commission 
To  rid  the  manor  of  guch  vermin* 
The  heroines  undertook  the  task, 
Through  lanes  unknown,  o'er    stiles   they 
ventur'dt; 
Rapp'd  at  the  door,  nor  stayed  to  ask, 
But  bounce  into  the  parlour  entered. 
The  trembling  family  they  daunt. 

They  flirt,  they  sing,  they  laugh,  they  tattle, 
Rummage  his  mother,  pinch  his  aunt. 

And  upstairs  in  a  whirlwind  rattle: 
Each  hole  and  c.  ipboard  they  explore. 

Each  creek  and  cranny  of  his  chamber, 
Run  hurry  skurry  round  the  floor. 
And  o'er  the  bed  and  tester  clamber; 

*  Henry  the  Fourth,  in  the  fourth  year  of  his  rei?n, 
issued  put  the  folIowin!r  com/»i*s?ora  against  this  species 
of  vermin. —''And  it  is  enacted,  that  no  master-rimer, 
minstrel,  or  other  van-ahond,  he  in  anywise  sustained 
in  the  land  of  Wales,  to  make  commoilhs,  or  gather- 
ings upon  the  people  there.' ' 

t  The  wr.lk  from  Stoke  old  mansion,  to  the  house 
occupied  by  the  poet's  fomily,  is  peculiarly  retired. 
The  house  is  the  property  of  Captain  Salter,  and  it 
has  belonged  to  h  is  family  for  many  generations.  It 
is  a  charming  sp>t  for  a  summer  residence,  but  has 
undergone  great  j  Iterations  and  improvements  since 
Gray  gave  it  up  in  1758. 


'A 


Wt- 


r? 


r 


Into  the  drawers  and  china  pry, 

Papers  and  books,  a  huge  imbr: 
Under  a  tea-cup  he  might  he*,  * 

Or,  creased,  hke  dog's-ears,  in  a  foho. 

On  the  first  marching  of  the  troops. 
The  Muses,  iiopeless  of  his  pardon, 

Convey'd  him  underneath  their  hoops 
To  a  small  closet  in  the  garden. 

So  rumour  says:    (who  will  believe?) 

But  that  they  left  the  door  ajar, 
Where  safe  and  laughing  in  his  sleeve, 

He  heard  the  distant  din  of  war. 

*  There  is  a  very  great  similarity  between  the  style 
of  part  of  this  poem,  and  Prior's  Tale  of  the  'Dove  :' 
as  for  instance  in  the  following  stanzas,  which  Gray 
must  have  had  in  his  mind  at  the  time. 

'•With  one  great  peal  they  rap  the  door, 
Like  footmen  on  a  visiting  day  ; 
Folks  at  her  house  at  such  an  hour. 
Lord !  what  will  all  the  neighbours  say  1 

****** 

••Her  keys  he  takes,  her  door  unlocks. 

Through  wardrobe  and  through  closet  b  lunces, 
Peeps  into  every  chest  and  box, 
Turns  all  her  furbelows  and  tiounces. 

****** 

marvel  much,  she  smiling  said, 
Your  poultry  cannot  yet  be  found : 
Lies  he  in  yonder  slipper  dead, 
Or  may  be  in  the  teapot  drown'd." 


'^^P 


^% 


•sS. 


A    LONG    STORY.  S7 

Short  was  his  joy.     He  Uttle  knew 
The  power  of  magic  was  no  fable; 

Out  of  the  window,  whisk,  they  flew, 
But  left  a  spell  upon  the  table*. 

The  words  too  eager  to  unriddle, 

The  poet  telt  a  strange  disorder; 
Transparent  bird-lime  form'd  t!ie  middle, 

And  chains  invisible  the  border. 

So  cunning  was  the  apparatus, 

The  powerful  pot-hooks  did  so  move  him 
That  will  he,  nil!  he,  to  the  great  house, 

He  went,  as  if  the  devil  drove  him. 

Yet  on  his  way  (no  sign  of  grace. 

For  folks  in  fear  are  apt  to  pray) 
To  Phoebus  he  preferr'd  his  case. 

And  begg'd  his  aid  that  dreadful  day. 

The  godhead  would  have  back'd  his  quarrel; 

But  with  a  blush  on  recollection, 
Own'd,  that  his  quiver  and  his  laurel 

'Gainst  four  such  eyes  were  no  protection. 

The  court  was  sat,  the  culprit  there, 

Forth  from  their  gloomy  mansions  creeping. 
The  lady  Janes  and  Joans  repair, 
'    And  from  the  galleryt  stand  peeping: 


*  The  note  which  the  ladies  left  upon  the  table. 
t  The  music-gallery  which  overlooked  the  hall. 


m 


fi 


>m 


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m 


i 


m 


Such  as  in  silence  of  the  night 

Come  (sweep)  along  some  winding  entry, 
(Tyacke*  has  often  seen  the  sight) 

Or  at  the  chapel  door  stood  sentryt: 

In  peaked  hoods  and  mantles  tarnish'd, 
Sour  visages,  enough  to  scare  ye, 

High  dames  of  honour  once,  that  garnish'd 
The  drawing-room  of  fierce  Queen  Mary. 

The  peeress  comes.     The  audience  stare. 
And  doff  their  hats  with  due  submission: 

She  curtsies,  as  she  takes  her  chair, 
To  all  the  people  of  condhion. 

The  bard,  with  many  an  artful  fib, 

Had  in  imagination  fenced  him. 
Disproved  the  arguments  of  Squibt 

And  all  that  Groomt  could  urge  against  him. 

*  Tlie  housekeeper.  Her  name,  which  has  hitherto, 
in  ALL  editions  of  Gray's  Poems,  been  written  Styack, 
is  corrected  from  her  grave-stone  in  the  church-yard, 
and  the  accounts  of  contemporary  persons  in  the 
parish.  Housekeepers  are  usually  styled  Mrs. ;  the 
final  s,  doubtless,  caused  the  name  to  be  misappre- 
hended and  niispelt. 

i  The  old  chapel,  the  door  of  which  was  at  the 
opposite  extremity  of  the  hall. 

t  The  former  has  hitherto  been  styled  ^-roo^m  of  the 
chamber,  and  the  latter  steward,  but  the  legend  on  a 
grave-stone,  close  to  Tijacke's,  is  to  the  memory  ol 
William  Groom,  and  appears  tc  offer  evidence  that 


,^1 


1 


■■■'if 


Bui  soon  his  rhetoric  forsook  him, 
When  he  the  solemn  hall  had  seen; 

A  sudden  fit  of  ague  shook  him, 

He  stood  as  mute  as  poor  Macleane*. 

Yet  something  he  was  heard  to  mutter, 
"How  in  the  park  beneath  an  old  tree 

(Without  design  to  hurt  the  butter, 
Or  any  malice  to  the  poultry) , 

"  He  once  or  twice  had  penn'd  a  sonnet; 
Yet  hoped,  that  he  might  save  his  bacon: 

Numbers  would  give  their  oaths  upon  it, 
He  ne'er  was  for  a  conjuror  taken." 

The  shostlv  prudes  with  hagged  face 
Already  had  condemn' d  the  sinner. 

My  ladv  rose,  and  with  a  grace- 
She  smiled,  and  bid  him  come  to  dinner 

"  Jesu- Maria!    Madam  Bridget, 

Why,  what  can  the  viscountess  mean? 
(Cried  the  square-hoods  in  woful  fidget) 

The  times  are  alter' d  quite  and  clean! 
"  Decorum's  turn'd  to  mere  civility; 

Her  air  and  all  her  manners  show  it. 
Commend  me  to  her  affability! 

Speak  to  a  commoner  and  poet!" 

[Here  five  hundred  stanzas  are  lost.] 


Gray  mistook  the  name  of  the  one  for  the  office  of  the 
other. 
*  A  famous  highwayman  hanged  the  week  before. 


# 


A 


■.-',^^ 


^/^,  .'^i?^*^^'*?* 


■\f 


4  ^>. 


-TO 


A   LONG   STORY. 


^ 


And  so  God  save  our  noble  King, 
And  guard  us  from  long-winded  lubbers, 

That  to  eternity  would  sing, 
And  keep  my  lady  from  her  rubbers*. 

♦  See  a  Sequel  to  the  Lon?  Story,  in  Hakewill'a 
nistory  of  Windsor,  by  John  Penn,  Esq.,  and  a  further 
sequel  to  that,  by  the  late  laureate,  II.  J.  Pye,  Esq. 


Anecdotes  of  the  personajres  commemorated  in 
the  Long  Story,  while  they  continued  to  live  in  tlie 
same  society,  furnish  a  natural  appendix  to  that 
lively  narrative.  Of  these,  it  would  have  appeared 
preferable  to  select  such  as  related  to  the  short 
period  which  hnmediately  succeeded  it ;  and  which 
preceded  the  death  of  the  Poet's  mother  in  1753,  so 
much  deplored  by  him.  None,  however,  can  be  at 
present  known.  We  have  indeed  some  account  of 
one  of  the  principal  personages  in  the  year  1752,  in 
another  society;  and  it  apjjtars  from  the  following 
passage,  in  a  letter  of  Mrs.  Montagu,  of  that  date, 
that  the  lady  had  then  admitted  the  attention  and 
homage  of  her  future  husband.  "I  wish  the  fair 
shepherdess  (Miss  Speed)  a  happy  meeting  with  her 
Pastor  Fido,  at  the  next  masquerade,  for  I  think  it 
more  probable  she  will  meet  him  there  than  under 
the  shady  '  oak  or  spreading  beech.'  "  But,  whether 
it  be  owing  to  the  charms  of  this  new  and  favoured 
lover  on  her  leisure  hours,  or  to  any  disposition  of 
reserve,  of  which  the  letter  of  Gr;iv  in  answer  to 
Mr.  W^alpole  (vide  Orford's  WorJvs,  vol.  v.  p.  392.) 
seems  to  convey  a  proof,  or  to  other  causes,  the  little 
nformation  that  can  now  be  gleaned  relative  to  the 
ociety  of  Stoke  in  those  times,  is  due  to  the  recollec- 


•^f 


m 


4f 


^^ 


n 


lY 


A    LCiNO   STORY. 

tionsand  friendly  communication  ofAdiniral  Sir  John 
T.  Duckworth,  K.  \\.%  wliose  respected  f.ither  be- 
came vicar  of  this  place  in  the  year  ITSfi.  This 
distinguished  officer  says,  that  he  and  his  elder  hro- 
ther  at  that  time,  when  they  were  about  eight  or  ten 
years  of  age,  were  regularly  and  frequently  invited, 
with  their  father  and  mother,  to  dine  at  "the  Creat 
House,"  the  presence  of  youthful  company  being  no- 
wise unwelcciuie  in  the  ciieerful  circle.  lie  likewise 
remembers,  thai  he  was  then  used  to  accompany  his 
father  in  his  visits  to  Mr.  Gray  and  his  aunt  Mrs. 
Rogers,  at  West  End  :  that  he  has  ofcen  been  at  home 
when  those  visits  were  returned;  and  that  on  these 
occasions,  the  author  of  the  Ode  to  Eton  College 
would  frequently  take  pleasure  in  gratifying  the 
young  Etonian  by  the  gift  of  a  shilling,  or  half  a 
•crown;  "which  (adds  the  gallant  admiral)  was  at 
that  time  no  inconsiderable  present."  But  a  circum- 
stance, which,  frouj  its  singularity,  made  a  stronger 
impression  upon  his  uiind  than  even  this  claim  upon 
his  gratitude,  alfords  a  substantial  jtroof  that  the 
socia-l  ease,  from  which  the  ghostly  female  champions 
of  false  decorum,  a  few  years  before,  had  inferred  a 
lamentable  decay  of  manners,  had  undergone  no 
change  that  could  give  them  cause  for  triumph.  lie 
relates  that  he  has  "more  than  once"^  been  an  eye- 
witness of  the  potent  elfecl  wrought  by  the  exuberant 
spirits  of  the  '■'•  wittij  nmazon"  in  prevailing  upon  the 
poet,  instead  of  beuig  conducted  by  a  muse,  or 
mounted  on  his  Pegasus,  to  trus(  himself  to  her  guid- 
ance, along  the  parish  lanes  in  a  butcher's  cart ;  which 
unusual  spectacle  could  hardly  have  failed  to  stir  the 
surprise  and  surmises  of  "  the  ploughman,"  ytl  delay- 
ing "homeward  to  plod    lis  wearv  way."     We  may 


/^ 


":^-%{''^^'^i 


A    LOxVG   STORY. 

conclude  from  this  fiolic,  that  the  policy  which  deter 
mined  "the  first  marching  of  the  troops,"  proceeded 
from  no  cause  more  probable  than  from  her  hostility 
to  the  stern  character  of"  the  drawing-room  of  fierce 
Queen  Mary."'  On  the  other  hand,  it  must  be  con- 
'essed  that  the  poet  thus  gave  ample  proof  of  the 
sincerity  of  his  ejaculation,  "Alas;  who  would  not 
wish  to  please  her!"'  But  that  his  gallantry  had 
no  deeper  root  than  the  complaisance  of  friendship 
he  seems  to  proclaim,-  not  only  in  his  letter  to  JNlr. 
Walpole,  but  in  another  to  Dr.  Wharton,  wrhten 
shortly  after  the  incident  of  the  Long  Story.  "My 
heart,"  says  he,  "is  no  less  yours  than  it  has  long 
been  ;  and  the  last  ihingin  the  world  that  will  throw 
it  into  tumult  is  aji)ie  lady.'"  Another  erroneous  sur- 
mise of  the  same  nature  might  be  formed  on  hearing 
(what  nevertheless  Is  true)  that  the  beautiful  rovdeav, 
which  appears  in  the  latter  editions  of  his  works,  was 
inspired  by  "the  wish  to  please"  this  lady.  The 
fact  is,  however,  that  it  was  produced  (and  probably 
about  this  time)  on  a  request  she  made  to  the  pot 
one  day,  when  he  was  in  conipany  with  Mr.  Walpole, 
that  she  might  possess  something  from  his  pen  written 
on  the  .subject  of  love.  We  collect  frc  Ji  the  Memoirs 
by  Mason,  that  the  society  of  neighbo.irhood  between 
the  lady  and  the  poet  must  have  closed  about  the 
year  175f,  at  which  time  the  death  of  his  aunt,  Mrs. 
Rogers,  determined  the  final  departure  of  the  latter 
from  Stoke.  A  circumstance  connected  with  that 
occasion  contributes  some  evidence  of  the  general 
activity  of  his  mind.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Duckworth,  who 
held  the  living  of  tjtoke  until  his  death  in  the  year 
1794,  remarked  that  the  difficulty  experienced  by 
Gray  in  relinquishing  the  tenure  of  the  premises  to 


4# 
>  ( s/. 


f.-*t?^ 


'^ 


V 


A    LONG   STORY 


wiiich  he  had  succeeded,  and  from  the  concern  of 
which  he  was  anxious  to  relieve  himself,  was  fimHy 
surmounted  by  means  of  his  own  knowledge  of  law. 

The  local  poem  by  which  Gray  has  impressed  a 
classical  stamp  upon  Stoke  are,  The  Ele^y  icritien  in 
a  Country  Churchyard,  The  Lova-  Story,  both  written 
in  1750,  and  his  Ode  to  Eton  Cullene,  written  before. 
In  the  year  1742  ;  in  which  year  were  also  written 
the  Ode  to  Sprinp,  the  Hymn  to  JJdversity,  and  the 
Sonnet  on  the  death  of  Mr.  West,  (the  first  certainly, 
and  the  two  last  probably,)  at  Stoke. 

It  was  in  the  year  1760  that  (Miss  Speed,  now) 
Countess  de  Viry  enabled  the  lover  of  poetry  to  see 
in  print  the  Rvndeau,  and  another  small  amatory 
poem  of  Gray,  called  Thyrsis,  by  presenting  them  to 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Leman,  of  Suffolk,  while  on  a  visit  at 
her  castle  in  Savoy.    She  died  there  in  17S3. 


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But  chief,  the  sky-lark  warbles  high 
His  trembling  thrilling  ecstasy; 
And,  lessening  from  the  dazzled  sight, 
Melts  into  air  and  liquid  light. 

Rise,  my  soul!  on  wings  of  fire, 

Rise  the  rapturous  choir  among; 
Hark!  'tis  nature  strikes  the  lyre, 

And  leads  the  general  song: 
"  Warm  let  the  lyric  transport  flow, 
*'  Warm  as  the  ray  that  bids  it  glow; 
•'  And  animates  the  vernal  grove 
"  With  health,  with  harmony,  and  love." 


Yesterday  the  sullen  year 

Saw  the  snowy  whirlwind  fly; 
Mute  was  the  music  of  the  air. 
The  herd  stood  drooping  by: 
Their  raptures  now,  that  wildly  flow 
No  yesterday  nor  morrow  know; 
'Tis  man  alone  that  joy  descries 
With  forward  and  reverted  eyes. 

Smiles  on  past  misfortune's  brow 
Soft  reflection's  hand  can  trace; 
And  o'er  the  cheek  of  sorrow  throw 

A  melancholy  grace; 
While  hope  prolongs  our  happier  hour 
Or  deepest  shades,  that  dimly  lour, 
And  blacken  round  our  weary  way, 
Gilds  with  a  gleam  of  distant  day. 


.  #^d 


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76  ODE  ON   VICISSITUDE. 

Still,  where  rosy  pleasure  leads, 

See  a  kindred  grief  pursue; 
Behind  the  steps  that  misery  treads 

Approaching  comfort  view: 
The  hues  of  bliss  more  brightly  g^low 
Chastised  by  sabler  tints  of  woe; 
And  blended  form,  with  artful  strife, 
The  strength  and  harmony  of  life. 

See  the  wretch,  that  long  has  toss'd 

On  the  thorny  bed  of  pain, 
At  length  repair  his  \'igour  lost. 

And  breathe  and  walk  again: 
The  meanest  tloweret  of  the  vale. 
The  simplest  note  that  swells  the  gale, 
The  common  sun,  the  air,  the  skies, 
To  him  are  opening  paradise. 

Humble  quiet  builds  her  cell. 

Near  the  source  whence  pleasure  flowBi 
She  eyes  the  clear  crystalline  well. 

And  tastes  it  as  it  goes. 
'  While'  far  below  the  '  madding'  crowd 
'  Rush  headlong  to  the  dangerous  flood,' 
Where  broad  and  turbulent  it  sweeps, 
'  And'  perish'  in  the  boundless  deeps. 

Mark  where  indolence  and  pride, 

'  Sooth'd  by  flattery's  tinkhng  sound,' 

Go,  softly  rolling,  side  by  side. 
Their  dull  but  daily  round: 


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ODE   ON    VICISSITUDE. 


'  To  these,  if  Hebe's  self  should  bring 
The  purest  cup  from  pleasure's  spring, 
Say,  can  they  taste  the  flavour  high 
Of  sober,  simple,  genuine  joy? 

'  Mark  ambition's  march  sublime 
Up  to  power's  meridian  height; 
While  pale-eyed  envy  sees  him  climb, 

And  sickens  at  the  sight. 
Phantoms  of  danger,  death,  and  dread, 
Float  hourly  round  ambition's  head; 
While  spleen,  within   lis  rival's  breast^ 
Sits  brooding  on  her  scorpion  nest. 

'  Happier  he,  the  peasant,  far. 

From  the  pangs  of  passion  free, 
That  breathes  the  keen  yet  wholesome  aii- 

Of  rugged  penury. 
He,  when  his  morning  task  is  done, 
Can  slumber  in  the  noontide  sun; 
And  hie  him  home,  at  evening's  close. 
To  sweet  repast,  and  calm  repose. 

'  He,  unconscious  whence  the  bliss, 

Feels,  and  owns  in  carols  rude. 
That  all  the  circhng  joys  are  his. 

Of  dear  Vicissitude. 
From  toil  he  wins  his  spirits  light. 
From  busy  day  the  peaceful  night; 
Rich,  from  the  very  want  of  wealth, 
In  heaven's  host  treasures,  peace  and  health. 


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TRANSLATION  OF  A  PASSAGE 
FROM  STATIUS. 

Theb.  Lib- VI.,  Ver  704—724. 


This  translation,  which  Gray  sent  to  West,  consisted 
of  about  a  hundred  and  ten  lines.  Mr.  Mason 
selected  twenty-seven  lines,  which  he  published, 
as  Gray's  first  attempt  in  English  verse. 

Thied  in  the  labours  of  the  disc  came  on, 
With  sturdy  step  and  slow,  Hippomedon; 
Artful  and  strong  he  poised  the  well-known 

weight, 
By  Phlegyas  wam'd,  and  fir'd  by  Mnestheus' 

fate, 
That  to  avoid,  and  this  to  emulate. 
His  vigorous  arm  he  tried  before  he  flung. 
Braced  all  his  nerves,  and  every  sinew  strung, 
Then,  \\\([\  a  tempest's  whirl,  and  wary  eye, 
Pursued  his  cast,  and  hurl'd  the  orb  on  high; 
The  orb  on  high,  tenacious  of  its  course. 
True  to  the  mighty  arm  that  gave  it  force, 
Far  overleaps  all  bound,  and  joys  to  see 
[ts  ancient  lord  secure  of  victory. 
The  theatre's  green  height  and  woody  wall 
Tremble  ere  it  piecipitates  its  fall; 
78 


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The  ponderous  mass  sinks  in  the  cleaving  ground, 
While  vales,  and  woods,  and  echoing  hills  re- 
bound,— 
As  when  from  iEtna's  smoking  summit  broke, 
The  eyeless  Cyclops  heaved  the  craggy  rock: 
Where  Ocean  frets  beneath  the  dashing  oar, 
And  parting  surges  round  the  vessel  roar; 
'Twas  there  he  aira'd  the  meditated  harm, 
And  scarce  Ulysses  'scaped  his  giant  arm. 
A  tiger's  pride  the  victor  bore  away, 
With  native  spots  and  artful  labour  gay 
A  shining  border  round  the  margin  roll'd, 
And  calm'd  the  terrors  of  his  claws  in  gold. 

Cambridge,  May  8,  1736. 


hi 
f 

mi 


ELEGIAC  VERSES, 

OCCASIONED  BY  THE  SIGHT  OF  THE  PLAINS  WHERB 
THE  BATTLE  OF  TREBIA  WAS  FOUGHT. 

Qua  Treble  glaucas  sahces  intersecat  unda, 
Arvaque  Romanis  nobilitata  mails. 

Visus  adhuc  amnis  veteri  de  clade  rubere, 
Et  suspirantes  ducere  mcestus  aquas; 

Maurorumque  ala,  er  nigrcu  increbescere  r>/rmaB, 
Et  pulsa  Ausojiidum  ripa  sonare  fuga.  ' 


^1 


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FRAGMENT   OF   ATRAGEDY, 

DESIGNED  BY  MR.  GRAY, 
ON  THE 

SUBJECT    OF    TJIE    DEATH    OF    AGRIPPLXA. 

"  The  Britannicus  of  Mr.  Racine,  I  know,  was  one  of 
Mr.  Gray's  most  favourite  plays  ;  and  the  admirable 
manner  in  which  I  have  heard  him  say  he  saw  it 
represented  at  Paris,  seems  to  have  led  him  to 
clioose  the  d»iath  of  Agrippina  for  his  first  and 
only  efforl  in  the  drama.  The  execution  of  it  also, 
as  far  as  it  goes,  is  so  very  much  in  Racine's  taste, 
that  I  suspect,  if  that  great  Poet  had  been  born  an 
Englishman,  he  would  have  written  precisely  in  the 
game  style  and  manner.  However,  as  there  is  at 
present  in  this  nation  a  general  prejudice  against 
declamatory  plays,  I  agree  with  a  learned  friend, 
who  perused  the  manuscript, that  thisfragmem  will 
be  little  relished  by  the  many;  yet  the  admirable 
strokes  of  nature  and  character  with  which  it 
abounds,  and  the  majesty  of  its  diction,  prevent  me 
from  withholding  from  the  few,  who  I  expect  will 
relish  it,  so  great  a  curiosity  (to  call  it  nothing  more) 
as  part  of  a  tragedy  written  by  Mr.  Gray.  These 
"?<'rsons  well  know,  that  till  style  and  sentiment  be 
a  little  more  regarded,  mere  action  and  passion 
»ill  nevfcr  secure  reputation  to  the  author,  what- 
80 


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ever  they  may  do  to  the  actor.  It  is  the  business 
of  the  one,  'to  strut  and  fret  his  hour  upon  the 
sta^e;'  and  if  he  frets  and  struts  enough,  he  is  sure 
to  find  his  reward  in  the  plaudit  of  an  upper 
Kalii-ry  ;  but  the  otlier  outrht  to  have  some  regard 
to  the  cooler  judgment  of  the  closet;  for  I  will  be 
bold  to  say,  thai  if  Shakspeare  himself  had  not 
written  a  multitude  of  passages  which  please  there 
as  much  as  they  do  on  the  stage,  his  reputation 
would  not  stand  so  universally  high  as  it  does  at 
present.  Many  of  these  passage.s,  to  the  shame  of 
our  theatrical  taste,  are  omitted  constantly  in  the 
representation  :  but  I  say  not  this  from  conviction 
that  the  mode  of  writing,  which  Mr.  Gray  pursued, 
is  the  best  for  dramatic  purposes.  I  think  myself, 
what  I  have  asserted  elsewhere,  that  a  medium 
between  the  French  and  English  taste  would  be 
preH^rable  to  either;  and  yet  this  medium,  if  hit 
with  the  greatest  nicety,  would  fail  of  success  on 
our  theatre,  and  that  for  a  very  obvious  reason. 
Actors  (I  speak  of  the  troop  collectively)  must  all 
learn  to  speak  as  well  us  act,  in  order  to  do  justice 
to  such  a  drama. 

t*But  let  me  hasten  to  give  the  reader  what  little 
insight  I  can  into  Mr.  Gray's  plan,  as  I  find  and 
select  it  from  two  detached  papers.  The  Title 
and  Dramatis  Personce  are  as  follow  :  " 

Mason 


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AGRIPPINA. 


DRAMATIS    PERSONiE. 

AGRIPPINA,  the  Empress-mother. 

Nero,  the  Emper  jr. 

Popp,EA,  believed  to  be  in  love  with  Otho. 

Otho,  a  young  man  of  quality,  ir  love  with 

POPP.TIA. 

Seneca,  the  Emperor's  Preceptor. 
Anicetvs,  Captain  of  the  Guards. 
Demetrius,  the  Cynic,  friend  to  Seneca. 
AcERoNiA,  Confidant  to  Agrippina. 

SCEJ\rF.,  the  Emperor  s  villa  at  Baias. 


"  The  arjrument  drawn  out  by  him,  in  these  two 
papers,  under  the  idea  of  a  plot  and  under-plot,  I 
shall  here  unite  ;  as  k  will  tend  to  show  that  the 
action  itself  was  possessed  of  sufficient  unity. 

*'The  drama  opens  with  the  indignation  of  Agrippina, 
at  receiving  her  son's  orders  from  Anicetus  to 
remove  from  Baia>,  and  to  have  her  guard  taken 
from  her.  At  this  time  Otho,  having  conveyed 
Poppasa  from  the  house  of  her  husband  Rufus 
Crispinus,  brings  her  to  Baiae,  where  he  means  to 


conceal  her  among  the  crowd  : 
discovered,  to  have  recourse 

82 


if  his  fraud  is 
Emperor's 


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AGRIPPINA 


authority;  but,  knowing  the  lawless  temper  of 
Nero,  he  determines  not  to  have  recourse  to  that 
expedient  but  on  the  utmost  necessity.  In  the 
mean  time  he  commits  her  to  the  care  of  Anicetus, 
whom  he  takes  to  be  his  friend,  and  in  whose  ase 
he  thinks  he  may  safely  conlide.  Nero  is  not  yet 
come  to  Baise  :  but  Seneca,  wiiom  he  sends  before 
him,  informs  A^rippina  of  the  accusation  con- 
cerning Rubellius  Plancus,  and  desires  her  to 
clear  herself,  which  she  does  briefly :  but  demands 
to  see  lier  son,  who,  on  his  arrival,  acquits  her  of 
all  suspicion,  and  restores  her  to  honours.  In  the 
meanwhile,  Anicetus,  to  whose  care  PoppE?a  had 
been  entrusted  by  Otho,  contrives  the  following 
plot  to  ruin  Agrippina  :  he  betrays  his  trust  to  Otho, 
and  brings  Nero,  as  it  were  by  chance,  to  the  sight 
of  the  beautiful  PoppfEa;  the  Emperor  is  immedi- 
ately struck  with  her  charms,  and  she,  by  a  feigned 
resistance,  increases  his  passion :  though,  in  reality, 
she  is  from  the  first  dazzled  with  the  prospect  of 
empire,  and  forgets  Otho  :  she  therefore  joins  with 
Anicetus  in  his  desicn  of  ruining  Agrippina,  soon 
perceiving  that  it  will  be  for  her  interest.  Otho, 
hearing  that  the  Emperor  had  seen  Toppssa,  is 
much  enraged;  but  not  knowing  that  this  inter- 
view was  obtained  through  the  treachery  of  Anice- 
tus, is  readily  persuaded  by  him  to  see  Agrippina 
in  secret,  and  acquaint  her  with  his  fears  that  her. 
son  Nero  would  marry  Popptea.  Agrippina,  to 
support  her  own  power,  and  to  wean  the  Emperor 
from  the  love  of  Popprea,  gives  Otho  encourage- 
ment, and  promises  to  support  him.  Anicetus 
secretly  introduces  Nero  to  hear  their  discourse  ; 
who  resolves  immediately  on  his  mother's  death. 


I 


17/ 


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A(JRIPPI\A. 

and,  by  Anicetus's  means,  to  destroy  her  jy  drown- 
ing. A  solemn  feast,  in  honour  of  their  recon- 
ciliation, is  to  be  made;  after  which  she  being  to 
go  by  sea  to  Bauli,  the  ship  is  so  contrived  as  to 
sink  or  crush  her;  she  escapes  by  accident,  and 
returns  to  Baice.  In  this  interval  Otho  has  an 
interview  with  Poppa?a  :  and,  beins  duped  a  second 
time  by  Anicetus  and  her  determines  to  fly  with 
her  into  Greece,  by  means  of  a  vessel  which  is  to  be 
furnished  by  Anicetus;  but  he,  pretending  to 
remove  Popprea  on  board  in  the  night,  conveys  her 
tft  Nero's  apartment :  she  then  encourages  and  de- 
termines Nero  to  banish  Otho,  and  finish  the  horrid 
deed  he  had  attempted  on  his  mother.  Anicetus 
undertakes  to  execute  his  resolves;  and,  under 
pretence  of  a  plot  upon  the  Emperor's  life,  is  sent 
with  a  cuard  to  murder  Agrippina,  who  is  still  at 
Bai.-E  in  imminent  fear,  and  irresolute  how  to  con- 
duct herself.  The  account  of  her  death,  and  the 
Emperor's  horror  and  fruitless  remoise,  finishes 
the  drama."  Mason, 


ACT  I.     SCEJ\rE  I. 

Agrippina.      Aceronia. 

agrippina. 

Tis  well,  begone  !  your  errand  is  perform' d. 

[Speaks  as  to  Anicetus  eiitering. 
The  message  needs  no  comment.     Tell  your 

master. 
His  mother  shall  obey  him.    Say,  you  saw  her 
Yieldiao;  due  reverence  to  his  hi^h  command 


-5  '^^ ,' 


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Alone,  unguarded,  and  without  alictor, 
As  fits  the  daughter  of  Germanicus. 
Say,  she  retired  to  Antium;  there  to  tend 
Her  household  cares,  a  woman's  best  employ* 

ment. 
What  if  you  add.   how  she  turn'd  pale  and 

trembled; 
You  think,  you  spied  a  tear  stand  in  her  eye. 
And  would  have  dropp'd,  but  that  her  pride 

restrain' d  it? 
'Go!  you  can  paint  it  well)  'twill  profit  you, 
And  please  the  striphns:.  Yet  'twould  dash  his  joy 
To  hear  the  spirit  of  Britannicus 
Yet  walks  on  earth:  at  least  there  are  who  know 
Without  a  spell  to  raise,  and  bid  it  fire 
A  thousand  haughty  hearts,  unused  to  shake 
When  a  boy  frowns,  nor  to  be  lured  with  smiles 
To  taste  of  hollow  kindness,  or  partake 
flis  hospitable  board:  they  are  aware 
Of  the'  unpledged  bowl,  they  love  not  aconite. 

ACERONIA. 

He's  gone,  and  much  I  hope  these  walls  alone 
And  the  mute  air  are  privy  to  your  passion. 
Forgive  your  servant's  fears,  who  sees  the  danger 
Which  fierce  resentment  cannot  fail  to  raise 
In  haughty  youth,  and  irritated  power. 

AGRIPPirM. 

And  dost  thou  talk  to  me,  to  me,  of  danger, 
Of  haughty  youth,  and  irritated  power. 
To  her  that  gave  it  bsing,  her  tl  at  arm'd 


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This  painted  Jove,  and  taught  his  novice  hand 
To  aim  the  forked  boh;  while  he  stood  trembling, 
Scared  at  the  sound,  and  dazzled  with  its  bright- 
ness? 
'Tis  like  thou  hast  forgot,  when  j'et  a  strangei 
To  adoration,  to  the  grateful  steam 
Of  flattery's  incense,  and  obsequious  vows 
From  voluntary  realms,  a  puny  boy, 
Deck'd  with  no  other  lustre  than  the  blood 
Of  Agrippina's  race,  he  lived  unknown 
To  fame,  or  fortune;  haply  eyed  at  distance 
Some  edileship,  ambitious  of  the  power 
To  judge  of  weights  and  measures;  scarcely 

dared 
On  expectation's  strongest  wing  to  soar 
High  as  the  consulate,  that  empty  shade 
Of  long-forgotten  liberty:  when  I 
Oped  his  young  eye  to  bear  the  blaze  of  greatness; 
Show'd  him  where  empire  tower'd,  and  bade 

him  strike 
The  noble  quarry.     Gods!  then  was  the  time 
To  shrink  from  danger:  fear  might  then  haveworn 
The  mask  of  prudence;  but  a  heart  like  mine, 
A  heart  that  glows  with  the  pure  Julian  fire, 
If  bright  ambition  from  her  craggy  seat 
Display  the  radiant  prize,  will  mount  undaunted, 
Gain  the  rough  heights,  and  grasp  the  dangerous 
honour. 

ACERONIA. 

Through  various  hfe  I  have  pursued  your  steps, 
Hav  J  seen  your  soul,  and  wonder'd  at  its  daring: 


R1V 


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Hence  rise  my  fears.     Nor  am  I  yet  to  learn 
How  vast  the  debt  of  gratitude  which  Nero 
To  such  a  mother  owes;  the  world,  you  gave  him, 
Suffices  not  to  pay  the  o'nligation. 

I  well  remember  too  (for  I  was  present) 
When  in  a  secret,  and  dead  hour  of  night, 
Due  sacrifice  perform'd  wit';  barbarous  rites 
Of  mutter'd  charms  and  solemn  invocation, 
You  bade  the  Magi  call  the  dreadful  powers. 
That  read  futurity,  to  know  the  fate 
Impending  o'er  your  son  :  their  answer  was. 
If  the  son  reign,  the  mother  perishes. 
Perish  (you  cried)  the  mother  I  reign  the  son  ! 
He  reigns,  the  rest  is  heaven's;  who  oft  has  bade, 
E'en  when  its  will  seem'd  wrote  in  lines  of  blood. 
The'  untaught  even  disclose  a  whiter  meaning. 
Think  too  how  oft  in  weak  and  sickly  minds 
The  sweets  of  kindness  lavishly  indulged 
Rankle  to  gall  ;  and  benefits,  too  great 
To  be  repard,  sit  heavy  on  the  soul, 
As  unrequited  wrongs.     The  willing  homage 
Of  prostrate  Rome,  the  senate's  joint  applause. 
The  riches  of  the  earth,  the  train  of  pleasures 
That  wait  on  youth,  and  arbitrary  sway : 
These  were  your  gift,  and  with  them  you  be- 
stow'd 
The  very  power  he  has  to  be  ungrateful. 

AGRIPriNA. 

_^  Thus  ever  grave  and  undisturb'd  retlection 
(•iT^  Pours  its  cool  dictates  in  the  madding  ear. 
I  ■■    ^t  Of  rage,  and  thinks  to  quench  the  fire  it  feels  not. 


'15 


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AGRIPPINA. 

Say' St  thou  I  must  be  cautious,  must  be  silent 
And  tremble  at  the  phantom  I  have  raised  ? 
Carry  to  him  thy  timid  counsels.     He 
Perchance  may  heed  them:  tell  him  too,  that  one 
Who  hath  such  liberal  power  to  give,  ma/  still 
With  equal  power  resume  that  gift,  and  raise 
A  tempest  that  shail  shake  her  own  creation 
To  its  original  atoms — tell  me  I  say, 
This  mighty  emperor,  this  dreaded  hero, 
Has  he  beheld  the  glittering  front  of  war  ? 
Knows  his  soft  ear  the  trumpet's  thrilling  voice, 
And  outcry  of  the  battle  ?     Have  his  limbs 
Sweat  under  iron  harness  ?     Is  he  not 
The  silken  son  of  dalliance,  nursed  in  ease 
And  pleasure's  flowery  lap  ?— Rubellius  live?, 
And  Sylla  has  his  friends.thoughschool'dby  fear 
To  bow  the  supple  knee,  and  court  the  times 
With  shows  of  fair  obeisance  ;  and  a  call. 
Like  mine,  might  sers-e  belike  to  wake  preten- 
sions 
Drowsier  than  theirs,  who  boast   the  genuine 

blood 
Of  our  imperial  house. 


Did  I  not  wish  to  check  this  dangerous  passion, 
I  might  remind  my  mistress  that  her  nod 
Can  rouse  eight  hardy  legions,  wont  to  stem 
With  stubborn  nerves  the  tide,  and  face  tue 

rigour 
Of  bleak  Germania's  snows.  Four,not  less  brave 
That  in  A'-raenia  quell  the  Parthian  force 


V 


4 

% 


VvX 


m 


AtiRipriNA.  sa 

Under  the  warlike  Corbulo,  by  you 
^lark'd  for  their  leader:  these,  by  tres  confirrr' 
Of  old  respect  and  gratitude,  are  yours. 
Surely  the  Masians  too,  and  those  of  Egypt, 
Have  not  forgot  your  sire:  the  eye  of  Rome, 
And  the  Praetorian  camp,  have  long  revered, 
With  custom'd  awe,  the  daughter,  sister,  wif*?, 
And  mother  o^  »heir  Caesars. 

AGRII-PIXA. 

Ha!  by  Juno, 
It  bears  a  noble  sei^blance.     On  this  base 
My  great  revenge  shall  rise;  or  say  we  souna 
The  trump  of  Liberty;  there  will  not  want. 
Even  in  the  servile  senate,  ears  to  own 
Her  spirit-stirring  voice;  Soranus  there, 
And  Cassius;  Vetus  too,  and  Thrasea, 
Minds  of  the  antique  cast,  rough,  stubborn  souls. 
That  struggle  with  the  yoke.  Howshall  the  spark 
Unquenchable,  that  glows  \\ithin  their  breast*. 
Blaze  into  freedom,  when  the  idle  herd 
(Slaves  from  the  womb,  created  but  to  stare, 
And  bellow  in  the  Circus)  yet  will  start. 
And  shake  them  at  the  name  of  liberty, 
Stung  by  a  senseless  word,  a  vain  tradition, 
As  there  were  magic  in  it?    Wrinkled  beldams 
Teach  it  their  grandchildren,  as  somewhat  rare 
That  anciently  appear' d,  but  when,  extends 
Beyond  their  chronicle — oh!  'lis  a  cause 
To  arm  the  hand  of  childhood,  and  rebrace 
The  slacken' d  sinews  of  time- wearied  age. 


3^ 


^- 


d 


i 


\r  '! 


m 


90 


Aaiatr  NA. 


^ 


Yes,  we  may  meet,  ungrateful  boy,  we  may! 
Agu.a  the  Ijuried  ger.ius  of  old  Ronie 
Shall  from  the  dust  uprear  his  reverend  head, 
Roused  by  the  shout  of  milhons:  there  before 
His  high  tribunal  thou  and  J  .ppear. 
Let  majesty  sit  on  thy  awfu^  brow, 
A..d  h2;hten  from  thy  eye:  around  thee  call 
The  gilded  swarm  that  wantons  in  the  sunsWno 
01  thy  full  favour;  Seneca  Le  there 
In  gorgeous  phrase  of  labour' d  eloquence 
To  dress  thy  plea,  and  Burrhus  strengthen  it 
V/ith  hi?  plain  soldier's  oath, and  honest  seeming. 
Agiinst  thee,  liberty  and  Agiippina: 
The  world,  the  prize;  and  fair  1  efall  the  victors. 

But  sofil  why  do  I  waste  the  fruitless  hours 
in  threats  unexecuted?  Ilasie  thee,  fly 
These  hated  walls  that  seem  to  mock  my  shame 
And  cast  me  forth  in  duty  to  their  lord. 


Tis  time  to  go,  the  sun  is  high  advanced, 
And,  ere  mid-day,  Nero  will  come  to  B'aiae. 

AGRipri:,-A. 

My  thoif^ht  aches  at  him:  not  the  basilisk 
More  deadly  to  the  sight  than  is  to  me 
The  cool  injurious  eye  of  fro::en  kijidness. 
I  ^\'ill  not  meet  its  poisoti.     Let  him  feci 
Before  he  sees  me. 


mi 


If, 


r€f 


ACEIlO>riA, 

Why  then  stays  my  sovereign, 
Where  he  so  soon  may— ■ 

AGRIPPIXA. 

Yes,  I  will  begone. 
But  not  to  Antium — all  shall  be  confess' d, 
Whate'er  the  frivolous  tongue  of  giddy  fame 
Has  spread  among  the  crowd  ;  things,  that  but 

whisper' d, 
Have  arched  the  hearer's  brow,  and  rivetted 
His  eyes  in  fearful  ecstasy  :  no  matter 
What:  so't  be  strange,  and  dreadful. — Sorceries, 
Assassinations,  poisonings — the  deeper 
My  guilt,  the  blacker  his  ingratitude. 

And  you,  ye  rnanes  of  ambition's  victims, 
Enshrined  Claudius,  with  the  pitied  ghosts 
Of  the  Syllani,  doom'd  to  early  death, 
(Ye  unavailing  horrors,  fruitless  crimes  !) 
If  from  the  realms  of  night  my  voice  ye  hear, 
In  lieu  of  penitence,  and  vain  remorse, 
Accept  my  vengeance.    Though  by  me  ye  bled. 
He  was  the  cause.     My  love,  my  fears  for  him^ 
Dried  the  soft  springs  of  pity  in  my  heart, 
And  froze  them  up  with  deadly  cruelty. 
Yet  if  your  injured  shades  demand  my  fate, 
.f  murder  cries  for  murder,  blood  for  blood, 
Let  me  not  fall  alone  ;  but  crush  his  pride. 
And  sink  the  traitor  in  his  mo  her's  ruin. 

[Exeunt. 


#1 


X\i 


w 


Otho,  Poppjsa. 


Thus  far  we're  safe.    Thanks  to  tlie  rosy  queen 
Of  amorous  thefts:  and  had  her  wanton  son 
Lent  us  his  wings,  we  could  not  have  beguiled 
With  more  elusive  speed  the  dazzled  sight 
Of  wakeful  jealousy.     Be  gay  securely  : 
Dispel,  my  fair,  with  smiles,  the  timorous  cloud 
That  hangs  on  thy  clear  brow.  So  Helen  look'd, 
So  her  white  neck  reclined,  so  was  she  borne 
By  the  young  Trojan  to  his  gilded  bark 
With  fond  reluctance,  yielding  modesty, 
And  oft  reverted  eye,  as  if  she  knew  not 
Whether  she  fear'd,  or  wish'd  to  be  pursued. 


LINES 


ADDRESSED  TO  MR.  WEST,  FROM  GENOA 

HoRRiDOS  tractus,  Boreasque  linquens 
Regna  Taurini  fera.  molliorem 
Advehor  brumam,  Genuaeque  amantes 

Litora  soles 


a 


tesr>^ 


rf® 


HYMN  TO  IGNORANCE. 

A   FRAGMENT. 

Supposed  to  have  been  written  about  1742,  when  the 
Author  returned  to  Cambridge. 

Hail,  horrors,  hail!  ye  ever  gloomy  bowers, 

Ye  gothic  fanes,  and  antiquated  towers, 

Where  rushy  Camus'  slowly  winding  flood 

Perpetual  draws  his  humid  train  of  mud: 

Glad  I  revisit  thy  neglected  reign, 

Oh  take  me  to  thy  peaceful  shade  again. 

But  chiefly  thee,  whose  influence  breathed  from 

high 
Augments  the  native  darkness  of  the  sky; 
Ah,  Ignorance!  soft  salutary  jwwer! 
Prostrate  with  filial  reverence  I  adore. 
Thrice  hath  Hyperion  roll'd  his  annual  race, 
Since  weeping  I  forsook  thy  fond  embrace. 
Oh  say,  successful  dost  thou  still  oppose 
Thy  leaden  aegis  'gainst  our  ancient  foes?  • 
Still  stretch,  tenacious  of  thy  right  divine, 
The  massy  sceptre  o'er  the  slumbering  Une? 
And  dews  Lethean  through  the  land  dispense 
To  steep  in  slumbers  each  benighted  sense? 
If  any  spark  of  wit's  delusive  ray 
Break  out,  and  flash  a  momentary  day, 


V 


1 


J  f 


-^1 


4 


TO 


\^ 


i/^ 


HYJIM    TO   IGIVORANCE. 


With  damp,  cold  touch  forbid  it  to  aspire, 
-And  huddle  up  in  fogs  the  dangerous  fire. 

Oh  say — she  hears  me  not,  but  careless  grown, 
Lethargic  nods  upon  her  ebon  throne. 
Goddess!  awake,  ari?e,  ala.s  my  fears! 
Can  powers  immortal  feel  the  force  of  years? 
Not  thus  of  old.  with  ensigns  wide  unfurl'd, 
She  rode  triumphant  o'er  the  vanquish'd  world; 
Fierce  nations  own'd  her  unresisted  might, 
And  all  was  ignorance,  and  all  was  night. 

Oh!  sacred  age!  Oh!  times  for  ever  lost! 
(The  schoolman's  glory,  and  the  churchman's 

boast.) 
For  ever  gone — yet  still  to  fancy  new, 
Her  rapid  wings  the  transient  scene  pursue. 
And  bring  the  buried  ages  back  to  view, 

High  on  her  car,  behold  the  grandam  ride 
Like  old  Sesostris  with  barbaric  pride; 
*     *    *     *  a  team  of  harness'd  monarchs  bend 


>^n> 


V 


f^ 


m 


i 


.1 


THE  ALLIANCE 


EDUCATION  AND  GOVERNMENT 

A    FKAG3IENT. 


**  Instead  of  compiling  tables  of  Chronology  and 
natural  history,  why  did  not  Mr.  Gray  apoly  the 
powers  of  his  genius  to  finish  the  philosophic  poem 
of  which  he  has  left  such  an  exquisite  specimen!" 

Gibbon, 


ESSAY   I. 

rioTay'  u>  yaOi-  rav  ya^  aoibav 

Om  rtu)  fig  Aibav  ys  toi>  exXB7M9opta  ^uya|fif 
Theocritus,  id.  i.  63. 

As  sickly  plants  betray  a  niggard  e^rth, 
Whose  barren  bosom  starves  her  generous  birth 
Nor  genial  warmth,  nor  genial  juice  retains, 
Their  roots  to  feed,  and  fill  their  verdant  veins 
And  as  in  chmes,  where  Winter  holds  his  reign 
The  soi.,  ♦hough  fertile,  will  not  teem  in  vain, 
Forbids  her  gems  to  swell,  her  shades  to  rise, 
Nor  trust  her  blossoms  to  the  churhsh  skies: 


t; 


'%.% 


96  ALLIANCE   OF   EDUCATION 

So  draw  mankiod  in  vain  the  vital  airs, 
Unformed,  unfriended,  by  those  kindly  cares, 
That  health  and  vigour  to  the  soul  impart, 
Spread  the  young  thought,  and  warm  the  open- 
ing heart: 
So  fond  instruction  on  the  growing  powers 
Of  nature  idly  lavishes  her  stores, 
If  equal  jusiii-e  with  unclouded  face 
Smile  not  indulgent  on  the  rising  race, 
And  scatter  with  a  free,  though  frugal  hand, 
Liglit  golden  showers  of  plenty  o'er  the  land: 
But  tyranny  has  fix'd  her  empire  there, 
To  check  their  tender  hopes  with  chilUng  fear, 
And  blast  the  blooming  promise  of  the  year. 

The  spacious  animated  scene  survey. 
From  whence  the  rolling  orb,  that  gives  the  day. 
His  salde  sons  with  nearer  coifrse  surrounds 
To  either  pole,  and  life's  remotest  bounds 
How  rude  soe'er  the'  exterior  form  we  find, 
Howe'er  opinion  tinge  the  varied  mind, 
Alike  to  all  the  kind,  impartial  heaven 
The  sparks  of  truth  and  happiness  has  given: 
With  sense  to  feel,  with  memory  to  retain, 
They  follow  pleasure,  and  they  fly  from  pain; 
Their  judgment  mends  the  plan  their  fancy 

draws. 
The'  event  presages,  and  explores  the  cause; 
The  soft  returns  of  gratitude  they  know, 
By  fraud  elude,  by  force  repel  the  foe; 
While  mutual  wishes,  mutual  woes  endear, 
The  social  smile  and  sympathetic  tear. 


4^ 


f^. 


ff- 


^"^-^^ 


I 


AND    GOVERNMENT, 

Say,  ther,  through  ages  by  what  fate  confined, 
To  differen .  cUmes  seem  different  souls  assign' d? 
Here  measured  laws  and  philosophic  ease 
Fix,  and  improve  the  polish'd  arts  of  peace; 
There  industry  and  gain  the  vigils  keep, 
Command  the  winds  and  tame  the'  unwilling 

deep: 

Here  force  and  hardy  deeds  of  blood  prevail ; 
There  languid  pleasures  sigh  in  every  gale. 
Oft  o'er  the  trembhng  nations  from  afar 
Has  Scythia  breathed  the  hvLng  cloud  of  war  ; 
And,  where  the  deluge  burst,  with  sweepy  sway 
Their  arms,  their  kings,  thek  gods,  w^re  roll'c 

away. 
As  oft  have  issued,  host  impelling  host. 
The  blue-eyed  myriads  from  the  Baltic  coast. 
The  prostrate  south  to  the  destroyer  yields 
Her  boasted  titles,  and  her  golden  fields  : 
With  grim  delight  the  brood  of  winter  view 
A  brighter  day,  and  heavens  of  azure  hue  ; 
Scent  the  new  fragrance  of  the  breathing  rose, 
And  quaff  the  pendent  vintage  as  it  grows. 
Proud  of  the  yoke,  and  pUant  to  the  rod, 
Why  yet  does  Asia  dread  a  monarch's  nod, 
While  European  freedom  still  withstands 
The'  encroaching  tide  that  drowns  her  lessen* 

■  ing  lands  ? 
And  sees  far  off,  with  an  indignant  groan, 
^Her  native  plains,  and  empires  once  her  own? 
Can  opener  skies  and  suns  of  fiercer  flame 
O'erpower  the  fire  that  animates  our  frame  ; 


6^  .  ^MF:7^G^'f'-J«^ 


■S' 


fi 

J:^^ 


ALLIANCE    .F    EDUCATION 

As  lamps,  that  shed  at  eve  a  cheerful  ray, 
Fade  and  expire  beneath  the  eye  of  day  ? 
Need  we  the  influence  of  the  northern  star 
To  string  our  nerves,  and  steel  our  hearts  to 

war  ? 
And,  where  the  face  of  nature  laughs  arounJ, 
Must  sickening  virtue  fly  the  tainted  ground? 
Unmanly  tliought  I  what  seasons  can  controul, 
What  fancied  zone  can  circumscribe  the  soul, 
Who,  conscious  of  the  source  from  whence  she 

springs, 
By  reason  s  light,  on  resolution's  wings, 
Spite  of  her  frail  companion,  dauntless  goes 
O'er   Libya's  deserts  and   through   Zembla's 

snows  ? 
She  bids  each  slumbering  energy  awake, 
Another  touch,  anotlier  temper  take. 
Suspends  the'  inferior  laws,  that  rule  our  clay : 
The  stubborn  elements  confess  her  sway. 
Their  little  wants,  their  low  desires,  refine. 
And  raise  the  mortal  to  a  heisht  divine. 

Not  but  the  human  fabric  from  the  birth 
Imbibes  a  flavour  of  its  parent  earth  ; 
As  various  tracts  enforce  a  various  toil, 
The  manners  speak  the  idiom  of  their  soil. 
An  iron  race  the  mountain  clifis  maintain. 
Foes  to  the  gentler  genius  of  the  plain  : 
For  where  unwearied  sinews  must  be  found 
With  sidelong  plough  to  quell  the  flinty  ground. 
To  turn  the  torrent's  swift-descending  flood, 
To  brave  the  savage  rushing  from  the  wood, 


h 


What  wonder  if,  to  patient  valour  train'd, 
They  guard  with  spirit  what  by  strength  they 

gain'd? 
And  while  their  rocky  ramparts  round  they  see, 
The  rough  abode  of  want  and  liberty, 
(As  lawless  fjrce  from  confidence  will  grow) 
Insult  the  plenty  of  the  vales  below? 
What  wonder,  in  the  sultry  climes,  that  spread 
Where  NiFe  redundant  o'er  his  summer-bed 
From  his  broad  bosom  life  and  verdure  flings, 
And  broods  o'er  Egypt  with  his  watery  wings, 
If  with  adventurous  oar  and  ready  sail, 
The  dusky  people  drive  before  the  gale; 
Or  on  frail  floats  to  neighbouring  cities  ride, 
That  rise  and  gUtter  o'er  the  ambient  tide. 


[The  foJlowing  couplet,  which  was  intended  to  have 
been  introduced  in  the  poem  on  the  Alliance  of 
Education  and  Government,  is  much  too  beautiful 
to  be  lost,    Mason.J 

When  love  could  teach  a  monarch  to  be  \vise. 
And  gospel-hght  first  dawn'd  from  Bullen's  eyes. 


^ 


f 


V 


<n 


? 


^ 


V) 


^k 


Mr,  Bently  had  made  a  set  of  designs  for  Mr.  Gray'g 
Poems,  particularly  a  head-piece  to  the  Long  Story. 
Tlie  original  drawings  are  in  the  library  at  Straw- 
berry Hill. 

In  silent  gaze  the  tuneful  choir  among. 
Half  pleased,  half  blushing,   let  the  Muse 
admire, 

While  Bently  leads  her  sister  art  along. 
And  bids  the  pencil  answer  to  the  lyre. 

See,  in  their  course,  each  transitory  thought 
FLx'd  by  his  touch  a  lasting  essence  take; 

Each  dream,  in  fancy's  airy  colouring  wrought 
To  local  symmetry  and  life  awake! 

The  tardy  rhymes  that  used  to  Unger  on, 
To  censure  cold,  and  negligent  of  fame, 

In  swifter  measure  animat«d  run. 

And  catch  a  lustre  from  his  genuine  flame. 

Ahl  could  they  catch  his  strength,  his  easy  grace 
His  quick  creation,  his  unerring  hne; 

The  ener^^y  of  Pope  they  might  efface; 
And  DryJen's  harmony  subijiit  to  mine. 

But  not  to  one  in  this  benighted  age 

Is  that  diviner  inspiration  given. 
That  burns  in  Shakspeare's  or  in  Milton's  page, 

The  pomp  and  prodigaUty  of  heaven. 
100 


V 


s 


'/^ 


As  when  conspiring  in  the  diamond's  blaze, 
The  meaner  gems,  that  singly  charm  the  sight, 

Together  dart  their  intermingled  rays, 
And  dazzle  ^^ath  a  luxury  of  light. 

Enough  for  me,  if  to  some  feeling  breast 
My  hues  a  secret  sympathy  '  impart;' 

And  as  their  pleasing  influence  '  flows  confest,' 
A  sigh  of  soft  reflection  '  heaves  the  heart.' 


ss 


CI 


•V 
\4   o 


SKETCH  OF  HIS  OWN  CHARACTER. 

WRITTEN   IN    1761. 
AND  FOUND  IN  ONE  OF  HIS  POCKET  BOOKS. 

Too  poor  for  a  bribe,  and  too  proud  to  impor- 
tune; 
He  had  not  the  method  of  making  a  fortune: 
Could  love,  and  could  hate,  so  was  thought 

somewhat  odd; 
No  very  great  wit,  he  beheved  in  a  God: 
A  post  or  a  pension  he  did  not  desire. 
But  left  church  and  state  to  Charles  Townsend 
and  Squire*. 

♦  Squire]  At  that  time  Fellow  of  St.  John's  College, 
Cambridge,  and  afterwards  Bishop  of  St.  David's. 


m 


% 


J 


n 


i0Q 

4h 


1 


Written,  at  the  request  of  Miss  Speed,  to  an  old  air 
of  Geminiani: — the  thought  from  the  French. 

Thyrsis,  when  we  parted,  swore 
Ere  the  spring  he  would  return — 

Ah!  what  means  yon  violet  flower? 
And  the  bwd  that  dedvs  the  thorn? 

'Twas  the  lark  that  upward  sprung! 

'Twas  the  ni^'htingale  that  sung! 

Idle  notes!  untimely  green! 

Why  this  unavailing  haste? 
Western  gales  and  skies  serene 

Speak  not  always  winter  past. 
Cease,  my  doubts,  my  fears  to  movOf 
Spare  the  honour  of  my  love. 


pi 

V4    1 


1 


Suggested  by  a  view  of  the  Seat  and  Ruins  of  a  de- 
ceased nobleman,  at  Kingsgate,  Kent,  in  1766. 
(The  house  was  built  as  a  correct  imitation  of 
Cicero's  Forraian  Villa,  at  Baias.) 

Old,  and  abandon'd  by  each  venal  friend, 
Here  Holland  form'd  the  pious  resolution 

To  smuggle  a  few  years,  and  strive  to  mend 
A  broken  character  and  constitution. 

On  this  congenial  spot  he  fix'd  his  choice; 
Earl  Goodwin  trembled  for  his  neighbouring 
sand; 
Here  seagulls  scream,  and  cormorants  rejoice, 
And  mariners,  though  shipwreck'd,  dread  to 
land. 

Here  reign  the  blustering  North  and  blighting 
East, 

No  tree  is  heard  to  whisper,  bird  to  sing; 
Yet  nature  could  not  furnish  out  the  feast, 

Art  he  invokes  new  horrors  still  to  bring. 

Here  mouldering  fanes  and  batiiements  arise 
Turrets  and  arches  nodding  to  their  fall, 

Unpeopled  monasteries  delude  our  eyes, 
And  mimic  desolation  covers  all. 

103 


iTtS 


"  Ah!"  said  the  sighing  peer,  "  had  Bute  been 
true, 
Nor  M — 's  R — 's,  B — 's  friendship  vain, 
Far  better  scenes  than  these  had  bless'd  our 
view, 
And  reaUzed  the  beauties  which  we  feign: 

"  Purged  by  the  sword,  and  purified  by  fire, 
Tlien   had  we   seen  proud   London's  hated 
walls; 

Owls  would  have  hooted  in  St.  Peter  s  choir. 
And  foxes  stunk  and  htter'd  in  St.  Paul's." 


Thisjeu  d'cppril  first  appeared  m  Warton's  Edition 
of  Pope. 

With   beauty,  with  pleasures  surrounded,  to 

languish — 
To  weep  without  knowing  the  cause  of  anguish: 
To  start  from  short  slumbers,  and  wish  for  the 

morning — 
To  close  my  dull  eyes  when  I  see  it  returning; 
Sighs  sudden  and  frequent,  looks  ever  dejected— 


V 


m 

AMATORY   LINES.  ^ 

i 

_ _..-, <?! 

Words  that  steal  from  my  tongue,  by  no  mean-      ^^  Vf 
ing  connected!  My  /  ' 

Ah!  say,  fellow  swains,  how  these  symptonis 
befel  me? 

They  smile,  but  reply  not — Sure  DeUa  will  u-i 


^.'^i^^'    ^ 


k.mmMf.i 


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^// 


[/ 


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f 


Mr  Etoii^t,  >f  Cambridge  University,  the  person 
satirized,  was  as  remarkable  for  the  eccentricities 
of  his  character  as  for  his  personal  appearance.^ 
Mr.  Tyson,  of  Bene't  College,  made  an  etching  of 
his  head,  and  presented  it  to  Mr.  Gray,  who  em- 
bellished it  with  the  followmg  lines.  Mr.  Etough 
was  rector  of  Therlfield  Herts,  and  of  Colraworth, 
Bedfordshire. 


2>    *%^.Sfr 


Thus  Tophet  look'd: 
fiend, 

Whilst  frighted  prelates  bow'd  and  call'd  him 
friend. 

Our  mother-church,  with  half-averted  sight, 

Blush'd  as  she  bless'd  her  grisly  proselyte; 

Hosannas  rung  through  hell's  tremendous  bor- 
ders, 

And  Satan's  self  had  thought  of  taking  orders. 


i^ 


t 


ON  THE  MARRIAGE  OF  HIS  ROYAL  H'jGHNESS  THE 
PRINCE  OF  WALES. 

Printed  in  the  Cambridge  Collection,  1736. 

Iqnarje  nostrum  mentes,  et  inertia  corda, 
Dam  curas  regum,  et  sortem  miseramur  ini- 

quam, 
Qu£E  solio  afBxit,  vetuitque  calescere  flamma 
Dulci,  quae  dono  divum,  gratissima  serpit 
Viscera  per,   mollesque  animis  lene  impKcat 

aestus; 
Nee  teneros  sensus,  Veneris  nee  praemia  norunt, 
Eloquiumve  oculi,  aut  facunda  silentia  linguae: 

Scilicet  ignorajit  lacrymas,  saevosque  dolores, 
Dura  radimenta,  et  vioientae  exordia  flammae; 
Scilicet  ignorant,  quae  flumine  tinxit  amaro 
Tela  Venus,  caecique  armamentaria  Divi, 
Irasque,   insidiasque,   et   taciturn  sub  pectore 

vulnus; 
Namque  sub    ingressu, 

Amoris 


106 


primoque    in    limine 


^ 


V 
i- 1 


"S. 


a 


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i:^ 


0 


HYMENEAL 


Luctus  et  ultrices  posuere  cubila  Curse; 
Intus  habent  dulces  Risus,  et  Gratia  scdem, 
Et  roseis  resupina  toris,  roseo  ore  Voluptas: 
Regibus  hue  faciles  aditus;  communia  spernunt 
Ostia,  jamque  expers  duris  custodibus  istis 
Panditur  accessus,  penetraliaque  intima  Templi. 

Tuque  Oi!  Angliacis,  Princeps,  spes  optima 

regnis, 
.Ne  tantum,   ne  finge   metum :    quid  imagine 

captus 
Haeres,  et  memem  pictura  pascis  inani? 
Umbram  miraris:  nee  longum  tempus,  et  ipsa 
Ibit  in  amplexus,  thalamosque  ornabit  ovantes. 
Ille    tamen     tabulis    inhians     longum    haurit 

amorem. 
Affatu  fruitur  tacito,  auscultatque  tacentem 
Immemor  artificis  calami, risumque,ruboremque 
Aspicit  in  fucis,  pictseque  in  virginis  ore: 
Tanta  Venus  potuit;  tantus  tenet  error  amantes. 

Nascere,  magna  Dies,  qua  sese  Augusta 
Britanno 
Committal  Pelago,  patriamque  relinquat  amoe- 

nam; 
Cujus  in  adventum  jam  nunc  tria  regna  secundos 
AltoUi  in  plausus,  dulcique  accensa  furore 
Tncipiunt  agitare  modos,  et  carmina  dicunt: 
Ipse  animo  sedenim  juve^is  comitatur  euntem 
Explorat  ventes,  atque  auribus  aera  captat, 
Atque  auras,  atque  astra  vocat  crudelia;  pectus 
Internum  exultat,  surgitque  arrecta  cupido 


nh 


v^l 


<^N  ^^  J 


■i'^n^s         .i)  i     ^j^^  <^\  ^-^.i       c  ^  ) 


•^f^ 


HYMENEAL 


n 


Incusat  spes  aegra  fretum,  solitoque  videtur 
Latior  effundi  pontus,  fluctusque  morantes. 

Nascere,    Lux    major,    qua  sese  Augusta 

Britanno 
Committat  juveni  totam,  propriamque  dicabit; 
At  cirius  (precor)  Oh!  cedas  melioribus  astris:- 
>Jox  finem  pompae,  finemque  imponere  curis 
Possit,  et  in  thalamos  furtim  deducere  nuptam; 
Sufficial  requiemque  viris.  et  amaniibus  umbras; 
Adsu  Hymen,  et  subridens  cum  matre  Cupido 
Accedant  sternantque  toros,  ignemque  minis- 

strent; 
lUicet  haud  pictae  incandescit  imagine  formaB 
Ulterius  juvenis,  verumque  agnoscit  amorem. 
.  Sculptile  sicut  ebur,  faciemque  arsisse  venus- 

tam 
Pygmaliona  canunt:  ante  hanc  suspiria  ducit, 
Alloquiturque  amens,  flammamque  et  vulnera 

narrat; 
Implorata  Venus  jussit  cum  vivere  signum; 
Fcamineam  inspirans  animam;  quae  guadia  sur- 

gunt, 
Audiit  ut  primoe  nascentia  murmura  linguje, 
Luctariin  vitam,  et  paulatim  volvere  ocellos 
Sedulus,  aspexitque  nova  splendescere  flamma; 
Corripit  amplexu  vivam,  jamque  oscula  jungit 
Acria  confestim,  recipitque  rapitque;  prioris 
Tmmemorardoris,  Nymphaequeoblituseburneae. 

Tho.  Gray,  Pet.  Coll. 


"^- 


^  '^ 


^. 


SAPPHIC  ODE, 

TO    MR.  WEST. 

Mr.  Mason  considered  this  as  the  first  original  pro- 
duction of  Gray's  Muse;  the  former  poem  beiuf 
imposed  as  an  exercise,  by  the  College. 

Barbaras  aedes  aditure  mectim 
Quas  Ens  setnper  fovet  inquieta, 
Lb  ubi  late  sonat,  et  togatum 

^stuat  agmen! 

Dulcius  quanto,  latulis  sub  ulmi 
Hospitas  ramis  ttmere  jacentem 
Sic  Ubiis  horas,  tenuique  inertes 
Fallere  Musa? 

Saepe  enim  curis  vagor  expcdita 

Mente;  dum,  blandam  meditans  Camoenam, 

Vix  malo  rori,  meminive  serae 

Cedere  nocti; 

Et,  pedes  quo  me  rapiunt,  in  omni 
Colle  Parnassum  videor  videre 
Fertilem  sylvae,  gelidamque  in  omni 
Te  Aganippen. 
109 


<^<: 


in 


^ 


SAPPHIC  ODE 


Risit  et  Ver  me,  facilesque  NympbjB 
Nare  captantem,  nee  ineleganti, 
Mane  quicquid  de  violis  eundo 

Surripit  aura: 

Me  reclinatum  teneram  per  lierbam: 
Qua  leves  cursus  aqua  cunque  ducit, 
Et  moras  dulci  strepitu  lapillo 

Nectit  in  omni. 

Hee  novo  nostrum  fere  pectus  anno 
Simplices  curae  tenuere,  ccelum 
Quamdiu  sudum  explicuit  P'avoni 
Furior  hora: 

Otia  et  campos  nee  adhuc  relinquo, 
Nee  magis  Fhoebo  Clytie  fidcJis; 
(Ingruant  venti  licet,  et  senescat 
MoUior  ffistas.) 

Namque,  seu,  laetos  dominus  labiTes 
Prataque  et  monies  recreante  curru, 
Purpura  tractus  oriens  Eoos 

Vestit,  et  auro 

Sedulus  servo  veneratus  orbem 
Prodigum  splendoris:  amoeiiiori 
Sive  dilectam  meditatur  igne 

Pingere  Calpen, 

Usque  dum,  fulgore  magis  magis  jam 
Languido  circum,  variata  nubes 
L^bitvir  furtim,  viridisque  in  umbras 
Scena  recessit. 


^v^^ 


w 

T 


'vr 


0  ego  felix,  vice  si  (nee  unquam 
Surgerem  rursus)  simili  cadentem 
Parca  me  lenis  sineret  quieto 

Fallere  Letho! 

Multa  flagranti  radiisque  cincto 
Integris  ah!  quam  nihil  inviderem, 
Cum  Dei  ardentes  medius  quadrigas 
Sentit  Olympus. 


ALCAIC  FRAGMENT. 

O  LACRYMARU3I  fons,  tenero  sacros 
Ducentium  ortus  ex  animo:  quater 
FelLx!  m  imo  qui  scatentem 
Pectore  te,  pia  Nympha,  sensu. 


Mi 


^.? . 


CARMEN 

AD  C.  FAVONIUM  ZEPHYRINUM, 

Written  immediately  after  his  journey  to  FrescatI 
and  the  cascades  at  Tivoll,  which  he  had  descrited 
in  a  preceding  letter  to  his  friend  'At.  West. 

Mater  rosarum,  cui  tenerae  ^^gent 
Aurse  Favoni,  cui  Venus  it  conies 
Lasciva,  Nympharum  choreis 
Et  volucrum  celebraia  cantu! 
Die,  non  inertem  fallere  qua  diem  . 
Amat  sub  umbra,  seu  sinit  aureum 
Dormire  plectrum,  seu  retentat 
Pierio  Zephyrinus  antro 
Furore  dulci  planus,  et  immemor 
Reptantis  inter  frigora  Tuaculi 
Umbrosa,  vei  colics  Amiei 
Palladiae  superantis  Albae. 
Dilecta  Fauno,  et  capripedum  choria 
Pin'eta,  tester  vos,  Anio  minax 
Quoecunque  per  clivos  volutus 
Prajcipiti  tremefecit  amne, 
lUius  ahum  Tibur,  et  ^Esulas 
Audisse  sylvas  nomen  amabiles, 
Illius  et  gratas  Latinis 
Naisin  ingemiuasse  rupes; 
112 


n. 


f 


FRAGMEiVT   ON    THE    GAURUS 

Nam  me  Latinae  Naides  uvida 
Videre  ripa,  qua  niveas  levi 

Tarn  sKpe  lavit  rore  plumas 
Dulce  canens  Venusinus  ales; 
Mirum!  canenti  conticuit  nemus, 
Sacrique  fontes,  et  retinent  adhuc 

(Sic  Musa  jussit)  saxa  molles 
Docta  modos,  veteresque  lauri. 
Mirare  nee  tu  me  citharas  rudem 
Claudis  laboraniem  numeris:  loca 

Amcena,  jucundumque  ver  in- 

.  compositiim  docueie  carmen; 
Haerent  sub  omni  nam  folio  nigri 
Phoebea  luti  (credite)  somnia, 

Argutiusque  et  lympha  et  aurse 
Nescio  quid  solito  loquuntur. 


FRAGMENT  OF  A.LATIN    POEM  ON 
THE  GAURUS. 

Sent  by  Mr.  Gray  to  his  friend  West,  with  a  reference 
to  Sandy's  Travels,  book  iv.  pp.  275,  277,  and  278. 

Nec  procul  infelix  se  tollit  in  sethera  Gaurus, 
Frospiciens  vitreum  lugenti  vertice  pontum: 
Tristior  ille  diu,  et  veteri  dusuetus  oliva 
Gaurus,  pampmeaeque  eheu  jam  nescius  umbrae; 
Horrendi  tam  saeva  premit  vicinia  monfis, 
Attonitumque  urget  latus,  exuritque  ferentem. 
I 


rr» 


im 


FRAGMENT  ON  THE   GAURrS. 

Nam  fama  est  olim,  media  dum  rurasilebant 
Nocte,  Deo  victa,  et  molli  perfusa  quiete, 
Infremuisse  aequor  ponti,  auditamque  per  omnes 
Late  tellurem  surdum  immugire  cavernas: 
Quo  sonitu  nemora  aha  tremunt;  tremit  excita 

tuto 

Paithenopaea  sinu,  flammantisque  ora  Vesevi. 
At  sui)ito  se  aperire  solum,  vastosque  recessus 
Paudere  sub  pedibus.  nigraquc  voragine  fauces; 
Turn  piceas  cinerum  glomerare  sub  aetbere  nubea 
Vorticibus  rapidis,  ardentitjue  imbre  procellam. 
Praecipites  fugere  ferae,  perque  avia  longe 
Sylvarum  fugit  pastor,  juga  per  deserta, 
Ah,miserl  increpitans  saepe  alta  voce  per  umbram 
Nequicquam  natos,  creditque  audire  sequentes. 
Atque  ille  excelso  rupis  de  vertice  solus 
Respectans  notasque  domos,  et  dulcia  regna, 
Nil  usquam  videt  infelix  prater  mare  tristi 
Lumine  percussum,  et  pallentes  sulphure  cam 

pos, 
Fumumque,  flammasqne,  rotataque  turbine  saxa 
Quia  ubidetonuit  fragor,  et  lux  reddita  coelo; 
Maestos  confluere  agricolas,  passuque  videres 
Tandem  iterum  timido  deserta  requirere  tecta: 
Sperantes,  si  forte  oculis,  si  forte  darentur 
Uxorum  cineres,  miserorumve  ossa  parentum 
(Tenuia,  sed  tanti  saltem  solatia  luctus) 
Una  coUigere  et  justa  componere  in  urna. 
Uxorum  nusquam  cineres,  nusquam  ossa  paren- 
tum. 
(Spem  miserami)   assuetosve  Lares,  aut  rura 
videbunt. 


^^J 


I 


FRAGME-\T  ON  THE  GAUKUS 


fe, 


Quippe  ubi  planities  campi  diffusa  jacebat; 
Mons    novus;    ille    supercilium,    fronteaique 

favilla 
Incanum  ostentans,  ambustis  cautibus,  aequor 
Subjectum,  stragemque  suam,  moesta  arva,  mi- 

naci 
Despicit  imperio,  soloque  in  littore  regnat. 

Hinc  infame  loci  nomen,  mukosque  per  annos 
Immemor  antiquae  laudis,  nescire  labores 
Vomeris,  et  nulio  tellus  revirescere  cultu. 
Non  avium  colles,  non  carmine  matutino 
Pastorum  resonare;  adeo  undique  dirus  habebat 
Informes  late  horror  agros  saltusque  vacantes. 
Saepius  et  longe  detorquens  navita  prorara 
Monstrabat  digito  littus,  soevasque  revolvens 
Funera  narrabat  noctis,  veteremque  ruinam. 
Montis  adhuc  facies  manet  hirta  atque  aspera 

saxis: 
Sed  furorextinctus  jamdudum,et  flamma  quievit, 
Quas  nascenti  aderat;  seu  forte  bituminis  alri 
Defluxere  olim  rivi,  atqtie  effoeta  lacuna 
Pabula  sufficere  ardori,  ^^resque  recusat; 
Sive  in  visceribus  meditans  incendia  jam  nunc 
(Horrendum)  arcanis  glomerat  genti  esse  futuras 
Exitio,  sparsos  tacitusque  recoUigit  ignes. 
Raro  per  clivos  baud  secius  ordine  vidi 
Canescentem  oleam:  longum  post  tempus  amicti 
Vite  virent  tumuli;  patriamque  revisere  gaudena 
Bacchus  in  assuetis  tenerum  caput  exerit  arvis 
Vix  tandem,  infidoque  audet  se  credere  ccelo. 


n 

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A  FAREWELL  TO  FLORENCE. 

*  *   Oh  Faesuloe  amoena 
Frigoribus  jusa,  nee  nimium  spirantibus  auris 
Alma  quibus  Tusri  Pallas  decus  Apennini 
Esse  dedit,  glaucaque  sua  canescere  sylva! 
Non  ego  vos  posthac  Ami  de  valle  videbo 
Porticibus  circum,  et  candenti  cincta  corona 
Villarum  longe  niiido  consurgere  dorso, 
Antiquanive  iEdem,  et  veteres  praeferre  Cm 

pressiis 
Mirabor,  tectisque  super  pondenria  tecta. 


f 


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Hi 
c4 


IMITATION   OF  AN  ITALIAN  SONNET,  W  V^ 


OF  SIGNIOR  ABBATE  BUONDELMONTE. 

Spesso  Amor  sotto  la  forma 
D'amista  ride,  e  s'asconde: 
Poi  si  mischia;  e  si  confonde 
Con  lo  sdegno,  e  col  rancor. 
In  Pietade  ei  si  trasforma; 
Par  trastullo,  e  par  dispetto: 
Ma  nel  sue  diverse  aspetto 
Sempr'  egli,  e  1'  istesso  Amor. 

LusiT  amicitige  interdum  velatus  amictu, 
Et  bene  composi^a  veste  fefellit  Amor. 
116 


% 


f 


1* 


ALCAIC  ODE. 


Mox  irae  assumpsit  cultus,  faciemque  minantem, 
Inque  odium  versus,  versus  et  in  lacrymas: 

Ludememfuge,neclacrymanti,autcredefuremi; 
Idem  est  dissimili  semper  in  ore  Ueus. 


ALCAIC  ODE, 

WRITTEN  IN  THE  ALBUM   OF   THE    GRANDE  CHAXl- 
TREUSE,  IN.DAUPHINT,  AUGUST,   1741. 

Oh  Tu,  severi  Religio  loci, 
Quocunque  gaudes  nomine  (non  leva 
N  ativa  nam  certe  fluenta 
Numen  habet,  veterusque  sylvas; 
Praesentiorem  et  conspicimus  Deum 
Per  invias  rupes,  fera  per  juga, 
Clivosque  praeruptos,  sonantes 
Inter  aquas,  nemorumque  noctem; 
Quam  si  repostus  sub  trabe  citrea 
P'ulgeret  auro,  et  Fhidiaca  manu) 
Salve  vocanti  rife,  fesso  et 
Da  placidam  juveni  quietem. 
Quod  si  invidendis  sedibus,  et  frui 
Fortuna  sacra  lege  silentii 

Vetat  volentem,  me  resorbens 
In  medios  violenta  fluctus: 
Saltem  remoto  des.  Pater,  angulo 
Horas  senectae  ducere  liberas; 
Tutumque  vulgari  tumultu 
Surripias,  hominumque  curis. 


LIfNA  HABITABILIS. 

This  copy  of  verses  was  written  by  the  desire  of  the 
College  in  1737.  It  has  been  printed  in  the  "Musae 
Etonenses,"  vol.  ii.  p.  107;  but  has  not  there  the 
name  of  the  author. 

DuM  nox  rorantes,  non  incomitata  per  auras 
Urget  equos,  tacitoque  inducit  sidera  lapsii; 
Ultima,  sed  nuUi  soror  inlicianda  sororum, 
Hue  milii,  ]\Iusa;  tihi  patet  alii  janua  coeli, 
Astra  vides,  nee  te  numeri,  nee  noniina  fallunt. 
Hue  niihi,  Diva  veni;  dulce  est  per  aperta  serena 
Vere  frui  liquido,  campoque  errare  silenti; 
Vera  frui  dulce  est;  modo  tu  dignata  petentem 
Sis  comes,  et  mecum  gelida  spaiiere  sub  umbra. 
Scilicet  hos  orbes,  cceU  hsec  decora  aha  piuan- 

dum  est, 
Noctis  opes,  nobis  tantum  lucere;  virumque 
Ostentari  oculis,  nostras  laquearia  terrae, 
Ingentes  scenas,  vastique  aulaea  theatri? 
Oh!  quis  me  pennis  a^thrae  super  ardua  sistet 
Mirantem,  propiusque  dabit  eonvexa  tueri; 
Teque  adeo,  unde  fluens  reficit  lux  moUior  arva, 
Pallidiorque  dies,  tristes  solata  tenebras? 

Sic  ego,  subridens  Dea  sic  ingressa  vicissim: 
Non  pennis  opus  hie,  supera  ut  simul  ilia  peta 

mus: 


4r 


m 


X 


n 


Disee,  Puer,  potius  coelo  deducere  Lunam; 
Neu  crede  ad  magicas  teinvitum  accingier  artes, 
Thessalicosve  modos;  ipsam  descenderePhosben 
Conspicies  novus  Eiidymion;  seque  offeret  ultro 
Visa  tibi  ante  oculos,  et  nota  major  imago. 
Quin  tete   admoveas    (tumuli  super  aggers 

spectas,) 
Compositum  tubulo:  simul  imum  invade  canalem 
Sic  intenta  acie,  coeli  simul  alta  patescent 
Atria;  jamque,  ausus  Lunaria  visere  regna, 
Ingrediere  solo,  et  caput  inter  nul.ila  condes, 

Ecce  autem!  vitri  se  in  vertice  sistere  Phcsben 
Cernis,  et  Oceanum,  et  creris  Freta  consista 

terris 
Panditur  ille  atram  faciem  caligine  condens 
Sublustri;  refugitque  oculos,  fallitque  tuentem; 
Integram  Solis  lucem  quippe  haurit  -aperto 
Fluctu  avidus  radiorum,  et  longos  imbibitignes: 
Yexvimhis,  quae,  maculisvariata  nitentibus,  auro 
Ccerula  discernunt,  celso  sese  insula  dorso 
Plurima  protrudit,  prastentaque  littora  saxis; 
Liberior  datur  his  quoniam  natura,  minusquc 
Lumen  depascunt  liquidum;  sed  tela  diei 
Detorquent,  retroque  docent  se  vertere  flammas. 
Hinc  longos  videas  tractus,  terrasque  jacentea 
Ordine  candenti,  et  claros  se  attollere  montes; 
Montes  quels  Rhodope  assurgat,  quibus  Osaa 

nivali 
Vertice:  turn  scopulis  infra  pendentibus  antra 
Nigrescunt  clivorum  umbra,  nemorumque  tene- 

bns. 


m 


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f 


I 


Non  rores  illi,  aut  desunt  sua  nubila  raundo; 
Non  frigus  gelidum,  afque  herbis  gratissimiu/ 

imber;  • 

His  quoque  nota  ardet  picto  Thaumantias  arcu, 
Os  roseum  Aurorae,  propriique  crepuscula  cceli. 

Et  dubitas  lantum  certis  cultoribus  orbem 
Destitui?  exercent  agros,  sua  nioenia  condunt 
Hi  quoque,   vel  Martem  invadunt,  curantque 

triumphos 
Victores:  sunt  bic  etiam  sua  proemia  laudi; 
His  metus,  atque  amor,  et  mentem  mortalia 

tangunt. 
Quin,  uti  nos  oculis  jam  nunc  juvat  ire  per  arva, 
Lucentesque  plagas  Lunae,  pontumque  profun- 

dum; 
Idem  illos  etiam  ardor  agit,  cum  se  aureus  effert 
Sub  sudum  globus;  et  terrarum  ingentior  orbis; 
Scilicet  omne aequor  tum  lustrant, scilicet  omnem 
Tellurem,  gentesque  polo  sub  utroque  jacentes; 
Et  quidam  aestivi  indefessus  ad  aetheris  ignes 
Pervigilat,  noctem  exercens,  ccelumque  fatigat; 
Jam  GaUi  apparent,  jam  se  Germania  late 
ToUit,  et  albescens  pater  Apenninus  ad  auras; 
Jam  tandem  in  Borean,  enl  parvulus  Anglia 

naevus 
(Quanquam  aliis  longe  fulgentior)  extulit  oras; 
Formosum  extemplo  lumen,  maculamque  ni. 

tentem 
Invisunt  crebri  Proceres,  serumque  tuendo; 
Haerent,  certatimque  sue  cognomine  signant: 
Forsitan  ej  LunaB  longia'^,'uus  in  orbc  Tyraiam 


T^ 


#1 


i 


«l 


fi- 


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Se  dominum  vocat,  et  nostra  se  jactat  in  aula. 
Terras  possim  alias  propiori  sole  calentes 
Narrare,  atque  alias,  jubaris  queis  parcior  usus, 
Lunarum  chorus,  et  tenuis  penuria  Phoebi; 
Ni,  raeditans  eadem  haec  audaci  evolvere  cantU; 
Jam  pulset  citharam  soror,  et  prceludia  tentet. 
Non  tamen  has  proprias   laudes,  nee  facta 
silebo 
Jampridem  in  fatis,  patriasque  oracula  famse. 
Tempus  erit,  sursum  totos  contendere  coetus 
Quo  cernes  longo  excursu,  primosque  colonoa 
Migrare  in  lunam.  et  notos  mutare  Penates: 
Dum  stupet  obtutu  tacito  vetus  incola,  longequo 
Insohtas  explorat  aves,  classemque  volantem. 
Ut  quondam  ignotum  marmor,  camposque 
natantes 
Tranavit  Zephyros  visens,  nova  regna,  Colum- 
bus; 
Litora  mirantur  circum,  mirantur  et  undee 
Inclusas  acies  ferro,  turmasque  biformes, 
]Monstraque  foeta  armis,  et  non  imitabile  fulmen. 
Foedera  niox  icta  et  gemini  commercia  mundi, 
Agminaque  assueto  glornerata  sub  aethere  cerno. 
Anglia,  quae  pelagi  jamdudum  torquet  habenas, 
Exercetque    frequens    ventos,    atque    imperat 

unda?;  • 

Aeris  attollet  fasces,  veteresque  ttii'mphos 
Hue  etiam  feret,  et  victts  dominabitar  aurie. 


\ 


^\ 


>^ 


¥■ 


Ggregiu.m  accipio  promissi  Munus  amoris, 

Inque  manu  mortem,  jam  fruiiura,  fero: 
Atque  utinam  ritias  mandasses,  I  ice  vel  una; 

Transieram  Stygios  non  inhonesta  lacus. 
Vlctoris  neo  passu  toros,  nova  nupta,  raariti, 

Nee  fueram  fastus,  Roma  superba,  tuos. 
Scilicet  haec  partem  ti'-i,  Masinissa,  triumphi 

Detractam,  haec  pompre  jura  minora  suae 
Imputat,  atque  uxor  quod  non  tua  pressa  catenis, 

Objecta  et  sajvae  plausibus  urbis  eo: 
Quin  tu  pro  tantis  cepisti  praemia  factis, 

Magnum  Romanas  pignus  amicitiaj! 
Scipiadae  excuses,  oro,^i  tardius  utar 

Munere.     Non  niniium  vivere,  crede,  velim. 
Parva  mora  est,  breve  sed  tempus  mea  fama 
requirit: 

Detinct  hajc  animam  cura  suprema  meam. 
Quae  patriae  prodesse  mcce  Regina  ferebar, 

Inter  Elisa^as  gloria  prima  nurus, 
Ne  videar  flamm;c  nimis  ind"ulsisse  secundae, 

Vel  nimis  hostiles  extimuisse  manus. 
Fortunam  atque  annos  liceat  revocare  priores, 

Gaudiaque  heu!  quantis  nostra  repensa  malia. 
Primiriasne  tuas  meministi  atque  arma  Svphacia 
122 


^J 


;^ 


^ 


PART  Of   AN   HEROIC  EPISTLE. 

Fusa,  et  per  Tyrias  ducta  trophoea  vias? 
(Laudis  at  antiquae  forsan  meminisse  pigebit, 

Quodque  deciis,  quondam  causa  ruboris  erit.) 
Tempus  ego  certe  memini,  felicia  Pcenis 

Quo  te  non  puduit  solvere  vota  deis; 
McBniaque  intrantem  vidi:  longo  ajmine  duxit 

Turba  salutantum,  purpureique  jiatres. 
Fceminea  ante  omnes  longe  adniiratur  eunfem 

Hseret  et  aspectu  tota  caterva  tuo. 
Jam  llexi,  regale  decus,  per  colla  capilli, 

Jam  decet  ardenii  fuscus  in  ore  color! 
Commendat  frontis  geiierosa  modestia  formam, 

Seque  cupit  laudi  surripuisse  suae. 
Prima  genas  tenui  signat  vix  flore  juventas, 

Et  dextrae  soli  credimus  esse  virum. 
Dum  faciles  gradiens  oculos  per  singula  jactas, 

(Seu  rexit  casus  lumina,  sive  Venus) 
In  me  (vel  certe  visum  est)  conversa  morari 

Sensi;  virgineus  pereulit  ora  pudor. 
Nescio  quid  vultum  moUe  spirare  tuendo, 

Credideramque  tuos  lentius  ire  pedes. 
Quaerebam,  juxta  aequalis  si  uignior  esset, 

QufE  poterat  visus  detinuisse  tuos: 
Nulla  fuit  circum  aequalis  vuae  dignior  esset, 

Asseruitque  decus  conscia  forma  suum. 
Pompae  finis  erat.     Tota  vix  nocte  quievi: 

Sin  premat  invitae  lumina  victa  sopor, 
Somnus   habet  pompas,   eademque    re   cursat 
imago; 

Atque  iteru"Ti  hesterno  muJ  ere  victor  ades. 


fTit 


mi 


DIDACniC  POEM,  UXFINISHFJ)! 

ENTITLED, 

DE  PRINCIPII3  COGITANDI. 

LIBER   PRIMLS.      AD    FAVONIUM. 

Unde  Animas  scire  incipiat:  quibus  inchoet  orsa 
Principiis  seriem  reruni,  tenuemrjue  catenam 
JMnemosj'ne:  Ratio  uiide  rubi  sub  pectore  tardum 
Augeat  imperium:  et  priimiin  mortalibus  aegns 
Ira,  Dolor,  Metus,  et  Curje  nascantur  inanes, 
Hinc  canere  aggredior.  Nee  dedignare  canentem: 
O  decusi  Angliacffi  cerre  0  lux  altera  gentis! 
Si  qua  primus  iter  monstras;  vestigia  conor 
Signare  incerta,  tremulatiue  insistere  planta 
Quin   potius  due  ipse    (potes  namque  omnia) 

sanctum 
Ad  limen  (si  rite  adeo,  si  pectore  puro^ , 
Obscurai  resorans  Xaturae  ingentia  clausira. 
Tu  ca3cas  rerum  causas,  fontemque  severum 
Pande,  Pater ;  tibi  enim,  tibi,  veri  magne  Sa- 

oerdos, 
Corda  patent  hominum,  atque  altae  penetralia 

Mentis. 
Tuque  auresadhibevacuas.facilesque.Favoni, 
(Quod  tibi  crescit  opus)   simplex  nee  despice 

carmen, 
Nee  vatem:  non  ilia  leves  nrimordia  moius, 
124 


EE   PRmCIPIIS   COGITANDI 


T 


Laetum  vel  amabile 


Quanquam  parva,  dabunt. 

quicquid 
Usquam  oritur,  trahit  hinc  ortum;  nee  surgit  ad 

auras, 
Quin  ea  conspirent  simul,  eventusque  secundent. 
Hinc  variae  vitai  artes,  ac  mollior  usus, 
Dulce  et  amicitiae  vinclum:  Sapientia  die 
Hinc  roseum  accendit  lumen,  vultuque  sereno 
Humanas  aperit  mentes,  nova  gaudia  monstrans, 
Oeformesque  fugat  curas,  vanosque  timores: 
Scilicet  et  rerum  crescit  pulcherrima  Virtus. 
Ilia  etiam,  qua?  te  (mirum)  noctesque  diesque 
Assidue  fovet  inspirans,  linguamque  sequentem 
Temperat  in  numeros;  atque  horas  mulcet 

inertes; 
Aurea  non  alia  se  jactat  origine  Musa. 

rrincipio,  ut  magnum  foedus  Natura  creatrix 
Firma\'it,  tardis  jussitque  inolescere  membris 
Sublimes  animas;  tenebroso  in  careers  partem 
Noluit  setheream  longo  torpere  veterno: 
Nee  per  se  proprium  passa  exercere  vigorem  est, 
Ne  sociae  molis  conjunctos  sperneret  artus, 
Ponderis  oblita,  et  coelestis  conscia  flammas, 
Idcirco  innumero  ductu  tremere  undique  fibras 
Nervorum  instituit:  turn  toto  corpore  miseens 
Implicuit  late  ramos,  et  sensih  textum, 
Implevitque  humore  suo  (seu  Ipmpha  vocanda 
Sive  aura  est)  tenuiseerte,  at  que  levissima 

quaedam 
Vis  versatur  agens,  parvosque  infusa  canales 
Perfluit;  assidie  externis  quae  concita  plagis, 


\1 

■5  ■    .a     '■i  i 


1. 


DE    PRINCIFIIS    COaiTANDI. 

Mobilis,  incussique  fidelis  nuntia  moms, 
Hinc  inde  accensa  contage  relabitur  usque 
Ad  superas  horninis  sedes,  arcemque  cerebri. 
Nainque  illic  posuit  solium,  et  sua  templa  sa- 

cravit 
Mens   animi:    hanc   circum   coeunt,   densoque 

feruntur 
Agmine  notiiiae,  simulacraque  tenuia  rerum, 
Ecce  autem  naturae  ingens  aperitur  imago 
Immensoe,  variique  patent  comniercia  mundi. 

Ac  uti  longinquis  descendant  montibus  amnes 
Vclivoliis  Tamesis,  flaventisque  Indus  arena;, 
Euphratesque,  Tagusque,  et  opimo  flumines 

Ganges, 
Undas  quisque  suas  volvens,  cursuque  sonoro 
In   mare  prorumpunt:    hos  magno  acclinis  in 

antro 
Excipit  Oceanus,  natorumque  ordine  longo 
Dona  recognoscit  venientum,  ultroque  serenat 
Cffiruleam  faciem,  et  difTuso  marmore  ridet. 
Haud  aliter  species  properant  se  inferre  novellae 
Certatim  menti,  atque  aditus  quino  agmine  com- 

plent. 
Primas  tactus  agit  pertes  primusque  minutae 
Laxat  iter  caecum  turbae,  recipitque  ruentem. 
Non  idem  huic  modus  est,  qui  fratribus:  am- 

plius  ille 
Iniperium  affectat  senior,  penitusque  meduUis 
Visceribusque  habitat  totis,  pellisque  recentura 
Funditur  in  talem,  el  late  .per  stamina  vivit. 
Necdum  etiam  matrls  puer  eluctatus  ab  alvo 


-^ 


^m^ 


>%P 


^: 


^/ 


'^ 


'T 


DE   PKINCIPIIS   COGITANDI. 

Multipliers  solvit  tunicas,  et  vincula  rupit; 
Sopitus  niolii  somno,  tepidoque  liquore 
Cucumfusus  adhuc:  tactus  tanien  aura  lacessit 
Janidudum  levior  sensus,  animamque  reclusit. 
Idque   iiiagis   simul,    ac   solitutv     blandumque 

calorem 
Frigore  mutavit  cogli,  quod  verberat  acri 
Impete  inassuetos  artus:  turn  seevior  adstat 
Humanfpque  comes  vitae  Dolor  excipit;  ille 
C  unci  an  tern  frustra  et  tremulo  multa  ore  que- 

rentem 
Corripit  invadens,  ferreisque  amplectitur  ulnis. 
Turn  specjes  primuni  patefacta  est  Candida  Lucis 
(Usque  vices  adeo  Natura  bonique,  malique, 
Exajquat,  justaque  manu  sua  damna  rependit) 
Turn  prinium,  ignotosque  bibunt  nova  lumina 
soles. 
Carmine  quo,  Dea,  te  dicam,  gratissima  cceli 
Progenies,  ortumque  tuum;  gemmantia  rore 
Ut  per  prata  levi  lustras,  et  floribus  halans 
Purpureum  Verisgremium,  scenamquevirentem 
Pingis,  et  umbriferos  colles,  et  caerula  regna? 
Gratia  te,  Venerisque  Lepos.  et  mille  Colorum, 
Formarumque  chorus  sequitur,  moiusque  de- 

centes. 
At  caput  invisum  Stygiis  Nox  atra  tenebris 
Abdidit,  horrendajque  simul  Formidinis  ora, 
Pervigilesque  aestus   Curarum,    atque    anxius 

Angor: 
Undi(iue  laetitia  florent  mortalia  corda, 
Purus  et  arridet  largis  fu.goribus  ^t«her. 


^fl^^5^^\ 


ife 


Iff) 
fi 


DE   PRINCIPII8    COGITANDI. 

Omnia  nee  tu  ideo  invalidae  se  pandere  Menti 
(Quippe  nimis  teneros  posset  vis  tanta  diei  ^  u^f^^ 

Periurbare,  et  inexpertos  confundere  visus)  r\L 

Nee  capere  infantes  animos,  neu  cernere  credas  ^ 

Tarn  variam  molem,  et  niirae  spectacula  lucis: 
Neseio  qua  tamcn  haee  oculos  diilcedine  parvos  '7A\ 

►Splendida  pcrcussit  novitas,  traxitque  sequentes; 
Nonne  videmus  enim,  latis  inserta  fcnestris 
Sicubi  se  Phcebi  dispergant  aurea  tela, 
Sive  lucernarum  rutilus  colluxcrit  ardor, 
Extemplo  hue  obverti  aciem,  quae  fixa  repertos 
Haurit  inexpletuni  radios,  fruiturque  tuendo.  ^. 

Altior  huic  vero  sensu,  majorque  videtur  \f] 

Addita,  Judicioque  arete  connexa  potestas, 
Quodsiraulatque  aetasvolventibusauxerit  annis, 
Hsee  simul,  assiduo  depaseens  omnia  visa,  ^^ 

Perspiciet,  vis  quanta  loci,  quid  polleat  ordo,  (^ 

Juneturae  quis  honos,  ut  res  ascendere  rebus 
Lumina  conjurant  inter  se,  et  mutua  fulgent. 

Nee  minor  in  geminis  viget  auribus  insit  a 
virtus. 
Nee  tantum  in  eurvis  quae  pervigil  excubet  antris 
Hineatque  hine  (ubi  Voxtremefecerit  ostiopulsu 
Aeriis  invecta  rotis)  longeque  recurset: 
Scilicet  Eloquio  haec  sonitus,  haee  fulminis  alas, 
Et  mulcere  dedit  dictis  et  toUere  corda, 
Verbaque  metiri  numeris,  versuque  Hgare 
Repperit,  et  quicquid  discant  Libethrides  undas, 
Calliope  quoties,  quoties  Pater  ipse  canendi 
Evolvat  liquidum  carmen,  calamove  loquenti 
Inspiret  dulces  animas,  digitisque  figuret 


DE  PRI2^CIPIIS   CC3ITANDI.  129 

At  medias  fauces,  et  linguae  humentia  templa 
Gustus  habet,  qua  se  insinuet  jacunda  saporum 
Luxuries,  dona  Autumni,  Bacchique  voluptas. 
Nanbus  interea  consedit  odora  hominum  vis, 
Docta  leves  captare  auras,  Panchaia  quales 
Vere  novo  exhalat,  Florsve  quod  oscula fragrant 
Roscida,  cum  Zephyri  furtim  sub  vesperisliora 
Respondet  votis,  mollemque  aspirat  amorem. 

Tot  portas  altae  capitis  circumdedit  arci 
Alma  Parens,  sensusque  vias  per  membra  re- 

clusit; 
Haud  solas:  namque  intus  agit  vivata  facultas, 
Qua  sese  explorat,  contemplatusque  repente 
Ipse  suas  animus  vires,  momentaque  cernit. 
Quid  yelit,  aut  possit,  capiat,  fugiatve,  vicissim 
Percipit  imperio  gaudens;  neque  corpora  fallunt 
Morigera  ad  celeres  actus,  ac  numina  mentis. 
Qualis  Hamadryadum  quondam  si  forte  so- 
rorum 
Una,  novos  peragrans  saltus,  et  devia  rura; 
(Atque  illam  in  viridi  suadet  procumbere  ripa 
Fontis  puraquies,  et  opaci  frigoris  umbra) 
Dum  prona  in  latices  speculi  de  margine  pendet, 
Mirata  est  subitam  venientioccurrereNympham: 
Mox  eosdem,  quos  ipsa,  artus,  eadem  ora  ge- 

rentem 
Una  inferre  gradus,  una  succedere  sylvae 
Aspicit  alludens;  seseque  agnoscit  in  undis. 
Sic  sensu  interno  rerum  simulacra  suafum 
Mens  ciet,  et  proprios  observat  conscia  vultus. 
Nee  vero  simplex  ratio,  aut  jus  emnibus  unum 

K 


^.^' 


w 


DE   PRINCIPIIS    COGITANDI. 

Constat  imaginibus.  Sunt  quae  bina  ost  a  nonint; 
Ilae  privos  servant  aditus:  sine  legibus  illae 
Passim,  qua  data  porta,  ruunt,  animoque  pro- 

pinquant. 
Respice,  cui  a  cunis  tristes  e.vtinxit  ocellos, 
Sa3va  et  in  eternas  mersit  natura  tenebras: 
lUi  ignota  dies  lucet,  vernusque  colorum 
OfTusus  nitor  est,  et  vivae  gratia  forma). 
Corporis  atfilum,  et  motus,  spafiumque,  locique 
Intervalla  datur  certo  dignoscere  tactu: 
Quandoquidem  his  iter  ambiguum  est,  et  janua 

duplex, 
Exclusaeque  oculis  species  irrumpere  tendunt 
Per  digitos.     Atqui  solis  concessa  potestas 
Luminibus  blandae  est  radios  immittere  lucis. 

Undique  proporro  sociis,  quacunque  patescit 
Notitia3  campus,  mistae  lasciva  feruntur 
Turba  voluptatis  comites,  forma;que  dolorum 
Terribiles  visu,  et  porta  glomerantur  in  omni. 
Nee  va.rio  minus  introitu  magnum  ingruit  lUud, 
Quo  facere  et  fungi,  quo  res  existere  circum 
Quamque  sibipropriocum  corpore  scimus,  etire 
Ordine,  perpetuoque  per  aevum  fluniine  labi. 

Nunc  age  quo  valeat  pacto,  qua  sensilis  arte 
Affectare  viam,  atque  animi  tentare  latebras 
Materies  (dictis  aures  adverte  faventes) 
Exsequar.     Imprimis    spatii   quam   multa  per 

aequor 
Millia  multigenis  pandant  se  corpora  seclis, 
Expende.     Haud  unum  invenies,  quod  mente 

licebit 


^=^ff 


DE  PRIKCIPirs   COGITANDI. 

Amplecti,  nedum  proprius  deprendere  sensu, 
Moles  egens  certas,  aut  solido  sine  robore,  cujus 
Denique  mobilitas  linquit,  texturave  partes, 
UUa  nee  orarum  circumcaesura  coercet. 
Haec  conjuncta  adeo  tota  compage  fatetur 
Mundus,  et  extremo  clamant  in  limine  rerum, 
(Si  rebus  datur  extremum)  primordio.     Firmai 
Hsec  eadem  tactus  (tactum  quis  dicere  falsum 
Audeat  ?)  hasc  oculi  nee  lucidus  arguit  orbis. 
Inde  potestatum  enasci  densissima  proles  ; 
Nam  quodcunque  ferit  visum,  tangive  laborat, 
Quicquid  nare  bibis,  vel  concava  concipit  auris, 
Quicquid  lingua  sapit,  credas  hoc  omne,  necesse 

est 

Ponderibus,  textu,  discursu,  mole,  figura 
Particulas  praestare  leves,  et  semina  rerum. 
Nunc  oculos  igitur  pascunt,  et  luce  ministra 
Fulgere  cuncta  vides,  spargique  coloribus  or- 

bem, 
Dum  de  sole  trahunt  alias,  aliasque  superne 
Detorquent,  retroque  decent  se  vertere  flammas. 
Nunc  trepido  inter  se  fervent  corpuscula  pulsu, 
Ut  tremor  asthera  per  magnum,  lateque  natantes 
Aurarum  fluctus  avidi  vibrantia  claustra 
Auditus  queat  allabi,  sonitumque  propaget. 
Cominus  interdum   non  ullo  interprete  per 
Nervorum  invadunt  teneras  quatientia  fibras, 
Sensiferumque  urgent  ultro  per  viscera  motum 


t 


TO 

r 


Haotenus  hand  segnis  Naturae  arcana'retexi 
Musaruin  interpres,piimusque  Briianna  per  arvE 
Romano  liquidum  deduxi  flumine  rivum. 
Cum  '^I'u  opere  in  medio,  spes  tanti  et  causa 

laboris, 
Linquis,  et  aeternam  fati  te  conuiS  in  umbram ! 
Vidi  egomet  duro  graviier  concussa  dolore 
Pectora,  in  alterius  non  unquam  lenta  dolorem  ; 
Et  languere  oculos  vidi,  et  pallascere  amantem 
\'ultum,quo  nunquam  Pietas  nisi  rara,Fidesque, 
Altus  amor  \'eri,  et  puruni  spirabat  Honestum* 
Visa  tamen  tardi  demum  inclementia  morbi 
Cessare  est,  ceducemque  iterum  roseo  ore  Sa- 

lutem. 
Speravi,  atque  una  tecum,  dilecte  Favoni ! 
Creduius  lieu  longos,  ui  quondam,  fallere  Soles ; 
Heu  spes  nequicquam  dulccs,  atque  irrita  vota  ! 
Heu  moestos  Soles,  sine  te  quos  ducere  flendo 
I'er  dcsideria,  et  qucstus  jam  cogor  inanes  ! 

At  Tu.sancta  anima.et  nostri  non  indiga  luctus 
Stellanti  templo,  sincerique  aetheris  igne, 
L'nde  orta  es,  fruere  ;  atque  o  si  secura,  nee  ultra 
JMortalis,  notos  oiini  miserata  labores 
Respectes,  tenuesque  vacet  cognosccre  curaa  ; 
Humanam  si  forte  aha  de  sede  procellam 
Conteniplere,nietus,stimulosque  cupidinis  acres, 
Gaudiaque  et  gemitus,  parvoque  in  corde  tu- 

multura. 


m 

t 


'X 


'Ai 


GREEK   EriGKAM. 

rrarum  ingentem,  et  saevos  sub  pectore  fluctus 
Respice  et   has  lacrymas,  memori  quas  ictus 

amore 
Fundo;  quod  possum,  juxta  lugere  sepulchrum 
Dum  juvat,  ex  mutae  vana  haec  jactare  favillse. 


t> 


R 


GREEK  EPIGRAM. 

Taj  8siva<;  rrjrciv/]  7.sL7tE  xuray^  ^faj» 
Moiroi    df]    ev9a     xvvi^v    ^aOii^v    x?.ayyfi;(J«» 
vTidyuOL, 


*-\ 


